Guardian Angel
by Witchy Bee
Summary: Norman Jayden must face the fact that he can't overcome his addictions and adjust to reality alone. Luckily, Madison is there to help. And she just might need him more than she thought.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Guardian Angel

**Pairing:** Norman Jayden/Madison Paige

**A/N:** I know it's a bit of an odd pairing. Don't get me wrong, I love Madison/Ethan stories. And yes, I'm jumping on the Norman Jayden bandwagon. There are indeed a lot of Jayden stories out there, but Jayden/Blake just doesn't make much sense to me...so I wrote this. Review if you like!

)O(

_"Weep for yourself, my man,_  
_ You'll never be what is in your heart._  
_ Weep Little Lion Man,_  
_ You're not as brave as you were at the start._  
_ Rate yourself and rake yourself,_  
_ Take all the courage you have left._  
_ Wasted on fixing all the problems _  
_That you made in your own head."_

_- Mumford and Sons, Little Lion Man_

)O(

The reason he joined the FBI was because he wanted to make a difference in the world; he wanted to help people. It was the same reason as everyone else. Jayden was still young and naïve at the time, but he had potential, and now he'd wasted it.

The ARI gave him an edge. Maybe not with his fellow agents, but the police in Philadelphia who were having a hell of a time catching the Origami Killer. The glasses allowed him to see things they could not, find hidden clues and missing pieces to the puzzle. But there were side effects…

The triptocaine helped with the nosebleeds and made the headaches go away. ARI was his means of escape, and tripto kept him calm and focused on the case until it was solved. He knew such a combination was potentially fatal, but if it meant he could save just one more life, even if it cost him his own; it was worth it.

Jayden wasn't exactly sure when it had gotten to the point where he seemed to need the drug more than he needed sleep or food. Soon he found himself spending more time in that beautiful alternate reality than in the real world. It was more real to him anyway.

He knew the risks and tried on multiple occasions to give it up forever, but in the end, he always came crawling back. Without tripto and the ARI, Jayden was just a normal person, if a bit of a smartass. But more importantly he'd be unable to solve difficult cases. That was not acceptable. Even though some nights his hands shook so badly that he couldn't even play the piano…

After the Origami Killer case ended, he had felt lost and empty. Jayden resigned from the FBI and got the hell out of Washington. He found himself on the first plane to Philadelphia. Where else could he go? What better place to start a new life than the city where his old one died?

And now, he was lying on the floor of some cheap motel room, trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

It had been his job to get inside people's heads and figure out how they worked and what made them tick. He had gazed into the dark and twisted psyches of some of the most infamous criminals, returning from it more or less the same. But this time…this time Jayden knew he was walking the serrated edges of right and wrong, struggling to keep the balance between his addictions and his life, and he could feel himself slipping.

His own demons were taunting him, now. For God's sake, he was supposed to be able to figure people out like the simplest of equations, and he couldn't even get his own shit together.

Tripto could make this awful feeling vanish; maybe even replace it with something sweeter, like ARI used to. An infuriating voice in the back of his mind told him this over and over again. But he didn't have the ARI anymore, it wouldn't help him here anyway, and he sure as hell didn't have any of _that_.

If he was ever going to rejoin the real world, Jayden would have to be in control. He must beat this on his own.

But the withdrawal symptoms…_fuck_…

The only thing that had ever helped in the past was ARI. In turn, the tripto relieved that skull-shattering pain which made it impossible for him to think. The drug allowed him to think clearly, and eventually he couldn't do so without it. So Jayden was stuck in a perpetual loop of addictions with no way out.

_What would Blake say if he could see this?_

Jayden figured he must be losing his mind for even thinking about the unbalanced psychopathic asshole without any provocation. Or maybe it was just the insomnia…

This would be the second day in a row Jayden hadn't slept. It had something to do with the lack of a certain blue powder his mind and body now desperately depended on in order to function. Jayden's brain was buzzing a mile a minute, but no thoughts were particularly coherent.

Would anyone care if he died? Had his life made any sort of difference in the world?

Jayden's eyes wandered aimlessly, only half taking in the shadows that stretched across the ceiling. Suddenly, his hands began to shake and his heart fluttered rapidly. This wasn't good. He needed tripto and he needed it _now_.

Somehow he managed to get to his feet, which turned out ot be a very bad idea as the walls immediately started to bend like they were pieces of paper being folded into an origami figure…

He shut his eyes tight, feeling the pulse of blood behind them, and hoping that the hallucination would disappear. It did; the walls stood upright again but the room was still spinning. The former FBI profiler crawled to the bathroom on his hands and knees, stood up and gripped the sides of the sink to steady him. Turning on the faucet, he splashed some ice cold water on his face, hoping it would clear his head a little.

It didn't.

"Fuck, Norman, look at yourself!" the reflection in the mirror commanded. "Finally hit your proverbial rock bottom, huh?"

"Shut up." Jayden said through gritted teeth. "You're not real so shut the fuck up!"

"ARI wasn't real either, but it was by virtue of its impossibility that compelled you to keep coming back, wasn't it?"

The _real_ Jayden took a deep breath. 'What do you want from me?"

"I want you to take a good look at the person you've become. Was this _really_ what you had in mind? You had so much potential, Norman…If you keep going back, it _will_ kill you."

"I have it under control." Jayden replied as calmly as he could, although it wasn't true and they both knew it.

"Do you?" the reflection of him asked. "No matter how hard you try, Norman, you just can't do this alone." Then he lowered his voice and spoke much gentler this time. "It wasn't your fault that you couldn't save the kid. He's alive, that's all that matters."

"Fuck you!" Jayden shouted. "Shut up, all right? Just shut up!"

He staggered out of the bathroom, gasping for air. It felt like someone had punched him hard in the stomach. Jayden knew he was falling and reached out for something to hold on to, but found only empty space. He finally collapsed beside the bed, barely able to breathe as sleep or maybe death claimed him.

And in those last moments of consciousness, Jayden thought he heard someone knocking on the door. But that was impossible. No one cared if he lived or died anyway, as it should be.

"Hello? Are you okay in there? I heard yelling…"

That voice, a woman's voice…

No, an angel's voice…

It was more beautiful than anything the ARI ever could have created for him.


	2. Chapter 2

There had been yelling coming from the motel room next to hers...and then silence. It was a horrible, deafening quiet: the kind that follows up the last notes of a piano or the firing of a gun...

Madison wondered, as she picked the lock on the door, why it was she always seemed destined to fix up injured men in motels. A part of her hoped that she would walk in only to find that nothing was wrong. He'd be perfectly well, if a bit angry at her intrusion, and Madison could just laugh and feel embarrassed for ever having questioned it. There was a reasonable explanation.

But if something was wrong, she couldn't just ignore that. And the adrenaline pupping through her veins combined with the quickening rate of her pulse and a strong sense of completely inexplicable urgency told Madison that something was very, very wrong indeed.

_Thump, thump, thump.._.

The door swung open and it took only a moment for her eyes to find what was amiss. He was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor next to the bed. That certainly wasn't a good sign. Possibilities ran through her mind as she moved slowly towards him. Was he sick? Was he drunk? Had he been poisoned? Had he done this to himself on purpose?

The scenarios became stranger and stranger as she lifted him onto the bed, just like she had with Ethan back when...No, this was not the time to think about that. It was a bit easier though since this man seemed to weigh almost nothing. Did he ever eat?

Now, at least, she could get a better look at him. The first thing Madison noticed was how pale he was, more so than anyone should be, that was for damn sure. She couldn't see his eyes but she did take note of the dark circles beneath them, indicating a severe lack of sleep that he appeared to be making up for now. Maybe something had been troubling him...Madison was an expert on insomnia by now, having lived with it for years, afraid of her dreams.

All of that combined was more than enough reason to pass out, but she suspected something more. Only he could give her the answer, so she would have to wait.

Madison looked closely at his face then. There was half-dried blood under his nose and an old scar on his cheek. In addition to that, however, were several newer bruises. Had he been in a fight? If that were the case, she would not be able to tell if he had any other more serious injuries without taking his clothes off first.

_Yes, because that's what I planned to do today, undress a stranger who I just happened to find unconscious in his motel room. Fuck my guardian angel complex, he needs a doctor and I'm certainly not one._

But those thoughts were interrupted by her patient, whose hands started to shake rather violently. His brows furrowed as if he was thinking very hard about something, trying desperately to concentrate. Madison couldn't help feeling like there was something so familiar about him, like she had seen him before but couldn't remember...

"Hey," Madison decided to try and get through to him, even though she knew it was probably pointless. "Can you hear me?"

"Go away..." he responded after a moment, voice hoarse. "You're not real."

"How do you figure that?" she asked, wanting to keep her patient awake and lucid enough to talk for as long as possible. Maybe she could even find out how to help him.

"Angels aren't real." he stated, as if it were obvious.

The tremors in his hands had subsided and his eyes remained closed. Eventually, the man's breathing settled as well and he was out like a light yet again. Madison could do nothing but gently wipe the blood from his face with a warm washcloth and wait for her answers.

Over the next few hours, his body temperature fluctuated from freezing one moment to burning up just as fast. His skin was clammy with cold sweat and he shivered constantly; he even looked to be in pain. Madison knew she was quickly losing control of the situation. She would have to call an ambulance for him, or else he might...No, this was not the time to think about that.

But she didn't trust the motel manager enough, especially not with something like this, so that was out of the question. This left her with very few options. Madison's own cell phone was back in her room, and she wasn't about to leave a possibly dying man alone for a second. _He must have a phone around here somewhere,_ she reasoned. That's when she spotted his jacket on the floor.

There wasn't much in his pockets, just a wallet and the cell phone.

"Don't worry," Madison said aloud, regardless of whether or not he could actually hear her. "I'm going to call an ambulance. They'll take you to the hospital where doctors can help you. Do you understand?"

"No hospitals. No doctors." The reply was firm. His eyes even opened halfway. "You're a good nurse. Stay, please. This…" He gestured vaguely in the direction of his forehead. "This will pass on its own."

"How can you be so sure?" she demanded. "What's happening to you? Look, I'm not a nurse. You need _professional_ help."

He seemed amused by that. "Maybe. One thing at a time."

Madison glared. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it." After that, a contemplative silence lingered between them. Finally, she asked, "Aren't you at least going to tell me your name?"

"Norman Jayden, formerly of the FBI." he said. "And you are Madison Paige, a journalist. I know that because it used to be my job to know those things...before I quit."

Suddenly, she remembered. "You were with those bastards who tried to arrest Ethan." _And they would have gladly arrested me too, if given the chance, for accompanying the suspect even though he was actually a victim._

Jayden looked away, but something in his expression told her that he wasn't particularly proud of that fact. "I hope that doesn't automatically make me one of them by default." _We'll see about that, won't we?_

"Why did you quit?" Madison asked quietly, both in an effort to change the subject as well as satisfy her own curiosity.

"Personal reasons," was all he said.

"Are you _always_ so evasive when asked a question?" It was beginning to frustrate her.

"Depends on the question," Jayden answered. "You're the journalist, here. You should know the right questions."

A part of her wanted to be angry; he was being a complete jerk and it didn't even seem to occur to him that he would be dead if it weren't for her. Maybe that was what he wanted. She was no doctor, and she sure as hell wasn't a psychologist.

Jayden brought a hand to his forehead, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. Talking seemed to be tiring him out. Madison didn't know what would happen if he lost consciousness again. She'd all but forgotten the phone in her hand, having been enthralled in their conversation and convinced that she really could handle this on her own.

It was because of such foolish ideas that they both found themselves here, brought together by fate's trembling hand, a fallen angel and a broken soul. Or, in Madison's reality, an insomniac journalist and her insufferable former FBI agent who was now dead to the world once more.

Madison sighed. There was nothing to do now but wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Jayden began to resent his caretaker. At the same time, it was impossible to deny that he hadn't made the best first impression either. All right, fine, he was a total dick.

But...

She made him drink excessive amounts of water when all he wanted was a good, strong cup of black coffee. Not that toxic excuse for coffee they had at the police station, mind you, but _real_ coffee. He needed caffeine, although he knew on some level that it was all just a distraction from what he really needed, which shall remain nameless.

_Fuck it._ Jayden needed triptocaine. But he didn't have any, and he'd been trying so hard to resist. Besides, he didn't want _her_ to know about his shameful little secret just yet. It was one thing when the tripto enabled him to do his job, but now he had no ARI and yet the desire for it still remained. This frightened him, honestly. She wasn't about to let him out of her sight anyway, so getting the drug was not an option, even if he did know where to look.

He awoke very early in the morning with that panicked feeling you get when you're late for something. But then he remembered that he didn't have a job anymore. He had nowhere at all to be, and Madison Paige was gone. _Of course she's gone, you idiot. She has a life, you know._

On one hand, maybe this was a good thing. It left him free to rummage through his belongings, inhaling trace amounts of precious blue powder from the bottom of nearly empty vials, like a regular coke fiend. It would be just enough to take the edge off. It would be just enough to dull the sharp pain currently attempting to rip his skull apart from the inside, until at last it became a minimally irritating ache in the back of his mind.

But on the other hand...Well, there had to be _something_ wrong with that idea. There was always something wrong with any idea his tripto-deprived mind came up with.

_It could kill you, remember? Or has it already made you forget?_ That annoyingly rational voice reminded him. Right, that was why. But honestly, that particular argument was starting to convince him less and less the longer he went without his fix. Go figure.

Jayden tried to push himself into a sitting position; staring at the dingy motel ceiling had lost its novelty long ago, except when he was hallucinating. His muscles cramped in protest, weak from having spent God only knew how many hours lying in bed. Still, he forced his body to comply, since his mind was restless.

The room was fairly dark, but that was all his eyes could take at this point. The room was also a mess; first-aid supplies littered the nightstand, discarded clothes and bloodstained towels had been left on the floor either carelessly or perhaps by someone in a frantic rush to keep a certain worthless bastard alive. Fuck, he wasn't worth her time anyway, let alone her concern.

Jayden carefully drew back the curtains, wary of the light. But he had nothing to fear: the sky was darkened by enormous, gloomy clouds. Rain steadily poured down on the street below. He hated the rain. He had always hated the rain, but especially now. It signified a lack of time and control. It reminded him of drowning.

_This is just fucking depressing. Yep, Norman, looks like you managed to reach a whole new level of self-loathing today. Congratulations, asshole, you've earned it._

For some unfathomable reason, he wanted to hear Madison's voice. And then he did.

Just then, the door to his room opened and she crept inside, probably assuming that he'd still be asleep. Madison jumped when she saw him standing there.

"Jesus, you scared me. I didn't expect you to be up and about by the time I got back."

"Sorry," he said. He really sucked at apologizing.

"It's okay. No harm done. I've just been a little jumpy ever since..." Madison trailed off with a distant look in her eyes.

"No, I don't mean just that." Jayden continued. "I'm sorry for being such a prick earlier. I was in pain and I was angry and I took it out on you when all you were doing was trying to help me."

He was sorry he could not prove that Ethan Mars wasn't the Oragami Killer until it was almost too late. He was sorry he could not save Shaun Mars, leaving Madison and Ethan to do so alone. He was sorry that he hadn't been quick enough, and that he had given up. Fuck, he wanted to apologize for his very existence. Jayden was a jobless failure hopelessly addicted to highly classified substances and technology that no one outside of the FBI was even supposed to know about.

"It's all right." Madison was saying, and he suddenly realized he was crying. "I was a little pissed off before, but I'm fine now. It will be okay, you just have to tell me how to help."

_Don't you get it by now? There is no help. They intended for this to kill me, and so far it looks like they're gonna win. I'm sorry for that, too._

There would be time for explanations later. They had all the time in the world, now. Besides, he didn't trust himself to voice it just yet. His reflection's words still haunted him.

_Finally hit your proverbial rock bottom, huh?_

_Yeah, and I'm loving the view._

Tripto would make the pain go away, but he didn't have the faintest fucking idea where to find it. Besides, it was the _cause_ of his problems, not the solution. If Jayden could just make it through this...Then what? _Well Norman, then you put your life back together, piece by piece._

"I want coffee." he blurted out. "Let's go have coffee."

Madison stared at him like he'd gone mad, because it went against her unprofessional opinion as his unofficial fake nurse. However, his eyes were pleading and she reluctantly agreed.

Of course, coffee wasn't what he really wanted at that moment, but for now it would have to do.


	4. Chapter 4

After having spent the past few years hopping from one motel to the next simply to get a good night's sleep, she had a mental map of all the best coffeehouses in the city. Jayden was absolutely useless in this area since he'd only been here for a little while and spent the majority of his time at some of the shadiest and most hellish places. It was a shame he hadn't gotten to see the good side of Philadelphia, like when it wasn't raining.

They exited the motel room just as the sun began to break through the clouds. The rain stopped, for the moment, at least. Jayden was staring up at the sky in amazement.

"What? You didn't honestly think it rained all the time here, did you?"

"Seeing is believing, isn't it?" He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like I had any evidence to suggest otherwise."

Madison wanted to scoff at that, but found herself grinning.

She briefly considered calling a cab, but it was a waste of money since her motorcycle was parked a short distance away. After walking over to it and getting on, she motioned for him to the same, noting that he looked slightly pale.

"Are you sure it's...I mean, is it really safe?" This coming from a man who did God only knew what and ended up passed out on the floor frequently enough for it to be considered normal for him. This time Madison did scoff. _You have got to be kidding me..._

"Come on, you FBI guys put yourselves into dangerous situations all the time." she argued. "And this is way less dangerous than having a loaded gun held to your head." Just because he wasn't with the FBI anymore didn't mean her point was any less valid.

He stood there for a moment longer, still apprehensive, before finally climbing on the back of the motorcycle. Madison put her helmet on and started the engine, which roared to life immediately. Jayden gripped on to her shoulders and tried to make it look like he was utterly terrified. Their destination was only a few blocks away, for God's sake...

Silence took over for a while as they rode through the streets, cars and light and sound all rushing by at remarkable speed until everything blurred into one almost musical rhythm that was the essence of this city. It was at times like this that she felt most alive. _Speaking of which.._.

"You still with me back there?" Madison called over the howling wind.

Jayden didn't respond. Truth be told, this caused her to worry. Maybe he just hadn't heard her. For mercy's sake, she slowed down a little, and he seemed to relax a bit. When the traffic light turned red and Madison stopped the bike, she took the opportunity to check up on him. What she saw worried her even more.

His eyes were bloodshot, staring straight ahead but lacking focus. She tried calling his name a few times but to no avail. It was as if he wasn't even on the planet anymore...

She could see the coffee shop from here, just across the street. The second the light turned green, Madison drove as fast as she could to reach it, mindful of other vehicles because it wouldn't do either of them any good if they got hit by a car.

Parking the motorcycle, she got off hastily and tossed her helmet aside. Jayden tumbled rather gracelessly towards the pavement, which in hindsight, she probably should have predicted. He lay there, helpless, until the pain seemed to shock him out of whatever the fuck had been happening to him.

"That's it," Madison declared. "I'm calling an ambulance. I never should have listened to you. You could have been fucking killed, Norman."

"I tried to tell you it wasn't safe." he muttered, which only infuriated her more but he continued before she could express her fury. "Look, just help me up. We'll go inside, have coffee, and I'll explain everything. After that, you can do whatever you want."

Madison decided to hear him out. He might be crazy, but there was no harm in listening. And frankly, she was curious. By the time they had sat down in the little cafe, cups in hand, she had decided to ignore him as a punishment. Only he didn't seem to notice. In the end, her curiosity, and maybe a twinge of concern that she didn't want to admit was there, got the better of her.

"What's going on, Norman?" Madison asked softly. "Do you have a brain tumor or something?"

"Heh. Probably. But that's beside the point." The joke fell flat, and he sighed. "I know that if I tell you not to print something in that newspaper of yours, you'll do it anyway simply to piss me off. But this is highly classified. It's serious shit, Madison, so keep it to yourself. Not for my sake, since I have nothing left to lose now. But you do. I have to warn you: the government doesn't like it when you poke your nose into their private affairs."

Jayden began to tell her about a very complicated and very expensive technology called an Added Reality Interface - ARI, as he kept referring to it - which was apparently like a computer connected to your brain via a pair of sunglasses, allowing you to access files and data and analyze crime scenes. Madison got the feeling that she was only being told the very basics of the device. It sounded like something right out of a terrible science fiction novel. And yet Madison had to hide how impressed she was.

"What was it like?"

"I can't really describe it." Jayden admitted. "It's sort of like having your own little world, I guess, only without all the flaws of reality."

"So...it's like a dream?"

"More like a nightmare, actually..."

The FBI had been testing the equipment on their agents because evidently their lives were expendable. For a while, everything was fine until a few of them started experiencing hallucinations, migraines, blurred vision, nosebleeds, and the list went on. Eventually one of the unlucky agents started bleeding from his eyes and collapsed. The government had already poured too much money into this project to stop now, so instead they invented a solution.

"Triptocaine was meant to reduce the negative effects of prolonged exposure to the ARI, and it did, but they never warned us that it came with its own set of problems. For one, it's highly addictive. Not to mention too much can be lethal."

"Then why did you take it?" Madison wanted to know. She was disgusted with the FBI's actions but also surprised that Jayden would fall for it. He looked down at the table.

"I needed ARI: it was the only way I could do my job." he said, his fingers twitching slightly as he sipped the coffee. "I thought that if I was careful maybe...Look, I stopped taking the tripto. There came a point when I knew I had to quit." Now he avoided meeting her gaze entirely. "What you saw in the motel...and just now...were the withdrawal symptoms. It's a real bitch, isn't it?"

Madison just sat there in stunned silence for a long time. Never in a million years would she have guessed that this would one day be her reality. Here he was, Norman Jayden: ex-FBI profiler, drug addict, and government lab rat. And here she was...

"I...I honestly can't believe it."

"You think I'm lying?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all. It's just that...Norman, you do realize that this could be the biggest scandal of the century, right? If you got a good lawyer you could..."

He was glaring at her. When he spoke, the tone was weary. "All I want is to move on. Maybe get back in touch with reality again. I don't know yet. What I do know is that I'd much rather put the whole damned thing behind me, okay?"

_That's what I said to myself, too, and I haven't been able to sleep in my own fucking apartment for years..._

"Yeah, fine, whatever you say."

Jayden nodded, satisfied with her answer. "You can still call that ambulance if you want, although I'm not sure what you'd tell them now." Madison almost thought she saw him smirking.

He had a point, even she couldn't deny that.

_Look at what you've gotten yourself into this time, Mad. Nice job. Real nice._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Review!

)O(

He knew he had lost all chance of winning this argument the minute he lost consciousness on that motorcycle. Either he was going back the motel in a taxi, or to the hospital in an ambulance. That was Madison's final word. Frankly, he was shocked she even gave him a choice in the matter. There was no reason why she should trust him, really.

So Jayden sat there with his eyes closed, his head leaned back against the leather of the backseat. Droplets of rain raced down the glass of the taxi's windows, aided by gravity. Cravings for tripto and ARI washed over him but he was too tired to care. The more chaotic his life became, the more he longed to slip into that familiar and perfect place where it never rained. Or at least, it was supposed to...

_Except it did rain the last time, didn't it?_

But now was not the time to think about that. It was not the time to think about what a mess he'd made ot things, or why he was dragging Madison Paige down with him. She could take care of herself, of course. She could make her own decisions. Hell, maybe she should make _his_ decisions, too.

There was no going back now. He'd told her pretty much everything he knew, and there was a very good chance that she was already riding off on that motorcycle of hers to write an article about it. Jayden hoped that wasn't the case; he just would not be able to handle it if something happened to her because of his stupidity.

Madison was already waiting for him by the time the taxi pulled up to the motel. It didn't make sense. Why couldn't she just hate him as much as he hated himself?

"What are you going to do now, Norman?" she asked as they stood side by side, staring off into space over the metal railing. "I mean, eventually you won't be able to afford to stay here anymore. You'll have to do something about money."

"I don't know." he admitted. "I haven't really thought about it." _Maybe I could rob banks for a living..._

She blinked. "You haven't thought any of this through, have you?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Well, then, you're coming to stay with me." Madison said it in that tone of hers, indicating there would be no argument; he had already lost anyway. It was decided. The woman was out of her mind. There was no reasoning with her.

"You never told me why you were staying at a motel." Jayden pointed out.

"Yeah, that. You never asked either." She looked almost embarrassed. "I...I suffer from chronic insomnia. I only seem to be able to sleep in motels. Whenever I get too exhausted I go and spend a night or two here."

His brain made a thousand unnecessary psychological connections. What could cause such a thing? A traumatic experience was the most likely cause...but that still wasn't really a cause unless he knew exactly what had happened.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, I don't know...eight months, maybe more. It's...hard to keep track after a while." It was clear from her body language that she didn't want to talk about this anymore. Perhaps she figured she owed him after everything he'd shared. But he was about to owe Madison a whole lot more.

Jayden packed up what few possessions he'd bothered to take with him from D.C. and checked out of the _Cross Roads_.

Madison's apartment was surprisingly spacious. It seemed that newspaper she worked for at least paid her well. There was a nice view of the rained-out city. He wondered why she didn't have curtains. Maybe she actually liked the view.

How was he ever going to be able to repay her?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This is a super short chapter. I promise the next chapter will be longer. Please review!

)O(

Madison awoke to the sound of shattering glass.

This threw her into a blind panic, as the Dream was still fresh in her mind. She imagined masked men forcing their way into her apartment. It was obvious she wasn't alone, but it took a shameful amount of time for her to remember that the man in her apartment had been invited.

_Right, because you had a temporary bout of insanity and decided to let a drug addict stay in your home. But now that you've recovered, you are going to tell him to leave, aren't you?_

"I don't know." Madison said aloud.

_...You're seriously losing it, girl._

Madison found him standing over the remnants of that ridiculously tacky plate a friend of hers had purchased as a joke. Honestly, she was more worried about him than the broken plate. Jayden's eyes seemed transfixed on the jagged shards of glass. He looked just like he did on the motorcycle: confused and pale and...not entirely there.

"Hey, Norman..." She didn't want to startle him. "Are you...all right?"

"...I don't wanna hurt you, Madison." The response was so soft, so very _not him_ that it terrified her. Then he turned his eyes in her direction, and as she expected, they were bloodshot and glassy.

"Listen, just...just focus, okay? Focus on me, and everything will be fine. I need you to do this. It's very important." _I am so unqualified for this_...Was this part of triptocaine withdrawal, too, or something else? What if the ARI had effected him more than he thought? What the fuck was she supposed to do?

Jayden's gaze returned to the colorful shards scattered on the floor. Shit, she was losing him again.

"Focus, Norman!" she commanded, a lump of cold fear rising in her throat. She swallowed hard.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do?_

_I don't know,_ her thoughts answered, _You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it._

Madison guided him to the couch while he guided her around invisible trees. For a long time, he just sat there, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. He seemed way too out of it for this to be good. But at least he had a pulse. That would have to be enough right now.

Right now Madison decided to focus on getting a broom and sweeping up the remains of the plate she'd always hated anyway. It wasn't as if she was going to be able to sleep any time soon. Besides, it had to be done.

Eventually, Jayden did fall asleep...or possibly slipped into some kind of coma. Hell, she wasn't a doctor, it could have been either one. She just kept reminding herself that at least he was alive.

There were still a few hours before sunrise. Not that it mattered, since she didn't have anywhere to be tomorrow anyway. Philadelphia slept outside her window while the rain and the occasional car all became mere white noise. She liked the view at this time of night.

Except the rain now reminded her of drowning children. Of deranged ex-surgeons and sleazy men. Of destroyed fathers and tormented killers. Of broken FBI agents and insomniac journalists. It had taken something away from all of them in the end. Whether it be their freedom, their purpose, their sanity or their lives...

And yet it always seemed so peaceful and quiet. Even with the knowledge that somewhere in the city, right now, chances were someone was being murdered.

Sometimes it was thoughts like this that kept her going, oddly enough.

_You have lost your goddamn mind._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I'm sorry if this story seems to be going really slow. That's because it is. I'm focusing more on the aftermath of everything rather than the high intensity action you get in the game. They have to face their own demons first, but I promise that the steamy bits will happen eventually.

They say that you have to love yourself before you can love someone else. And Jayden obviously doesn't even like himself that much.

Okay, so this chapter isn't _a lot_ longer than the last one, but it is still longer.

)O(

Jayden woke up with a headache. The kind that felt like Mad Jack was driving a bulldozer into his brain. Yeah, it had to be one of _those_ headaches.

At first, he didn't remember the circumstances that had brought him to Madison's couch. One minute he was fine, then he was desperately searching for something to focus his sudden flash of blind rage on. The truly sad part, really, was that he had become used to this by now. Jayden had a million plausible explanations for the property damage he inflicted on numerous hotels.

It wasn't that he was an aggressive person, but without tripto...well, he just lost all control.

The only solution when he went into one of those rages, besides taking the drug, was to release it somehow. Usually inanimate objects were the first to go, and if it was really bad, there was always his own body...But never other people. That just wasn't an option. Jayden knew he couldn't take it if something happened, especially to her.

And that was why the last thing he remembered was holding a plate in his shaking hands, ready to smash it to pieces...

Madison was sitting at the dining room table with her laptop and a cup of coffee. She'd undoubtedly drowned her coffee with milk. It was a trait of her profession. The overcast sky flooded the room with gray light, giving her an almost silver complexion. A weary, angelic glow...

"You're awake." she said, though he knew very well what the look in her eyes meant. What she really wanted to say: _You're alive._

"I am." he agreed. "Is that coffee?"

She made an effort at hiding her amusement. "Well, you just get straight to the heart of the matter, don't you?" _I hardly think that's the heart of the matter, lady. The heart of the matter is what the fuck I'm doing here._

Madison went to the kitchen and poured him a cup. It was good: black and fresh and very real. She had honestly remembered how he liked his coffee. The warmth of the mug relaxed each muscle in his hands, which were tense from trembling all night. The rich flavor of the coffee was enough to wash out the unpleasant taste in his mouth.

All things considered, he felt surprisingly well-rested.

The pain in his skull began to ebb away a bit. At least it didn't feel exactly like someone was sticking red hot needles into the back of his eyes anymore.

_You've got to be fucking kidding me, Norman,_ Jayden's rational self snapped, _All this really wasn't enough for you, huh? You just had to go and get yourself addicted to caffeine, too._

But at least it wasn't triptocaine.

_Right, and at least tripto isn't ARI. You are just picking your poison, Norman, the result is always the same. Hell, why don't you just take up smoking while you're at it? It's all a sign of something deeper, something seriously screwed up in your brain._

"Hey, Earth to Norman. Can you hear me?" He blinked, slowly coming back to reality. "You kind of...zoned out for a minute there. Are you okay? You'd tell me if you weren't, right? I mean, this is all a little overwhelming..." That was putting it mildly.

"I'm fine." Jayden answered, the lie being a natural reflex by now. Even though he knew that she was long past believing it. "Don't worry."

"I'm serious," Madison insisted, unwilling to leave the topic alone. It was, after all, the elephant in the room. "You really scared me last night, Norman. If this arrangement of ours is going to work, you can't keep secrets from me. Now tell me what the hell happened."

"Only if you tell me why you can't sleep," Sure, he wasn't in any position ot be demanding anything more than Madison was kind enough to give him. But this was not something he enjoyed talking about, so he might as well get something in return.

"I know you don't have a lot of respect for what I do, Mr. Profiler, but it may interest you to know that I spent two years in Iraq, covering the war." Madison began, speaking quietly. Her eyes were hard now, as if steeling herself. "The things I saw...horrible things...When I came home, I wanted so badly to put it all behind me. I wanted to forget. But the nightmares...It's always the same: masked men breaking into my apartment and attacking me. Then when I wake up, I'm frozen with the fear that I'm still dreaming, so I can't go back to sleep. That's why I can only relax in motels. It's the only place I actually feel safe. Go figure."

Jayden took a moment to absorb this information. It sounded like some kind of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder manifesting itself in Madison's subconscious. Christ, she shouldn't have to feel afraid, especially of some imaginary enemy.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's not your fault."

"No, I mean about the plate I broke." he elaborated. "I think it's the triptocaine withdrawal that does that. I just...have no control sometimes. There's no telling what I might do when it happens and that terrifies me. So there you have it. That's the truth."

"Wow..." It was Madison's turn to take a moment and absorb the meaning of his words. "Well, I never liked that plate anyway. Anything else I should know about?"

"Nope." _Except that I've lost my goddamn mind._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** This is a little different since technically the whole chapter should be from Madison's perspective, but what can I say? Norman wanted to play, too. I am powerless to stop him. I'm actually very happy with this chapter. Madison was incredibly cooperative; usually I have a hard time getting inside her head.

Also, I'm a bit worried it may seem like Sam has a crush on Madison. I didn't intend it that way because that would just be...well, creepy. I don't know. Perhaps I shouldn't have brought it up.

)O(

"Where are you going?" Jayden questioned, finishing off his second cup of coffee that morning. Madison was walking briskly about the apartment, gathering up her purse and pulling on her coat at the same time. It was blatantly obvious, at least from his stationary position on the couch anyway, that she was in a rush.

"Work," she said in that subconsciously self-important way people do. "There are...a few things I have to look into. It shouldn't take long. Honestly, I'd rather not go at all; every journalist I know is either jealous of me for stumbling onto the story of the year, or desperate to interview me for their interpretation of it." Then she stopped, sighed and shook her head, as if trying to steer her throughts away from a dark path. "Are you going to be all right while I'm gone?"

"I'll be fine." And this time, he did not have to lie to her.

Madison nodded, apparently satisfied with that. But then she walked over to the desk, grabbed an old business card, and jotted something down on the back of it.

"I know you won't call an ambulance if something goes wrong," she started, "But at least call me, okay? This is my cellphone number." She indicated the first set of digits written on the card. "If that doesn't work for some reason, this is the number to my office. Just ask for me and they'll put you through."

It was one of those times that Jayden wondered why she did all this for him, why she cared enough in the first place, and why she trusted a drug addict. It couldn't be as simple as the fact that he was one of the good guys. Was he, even?

Madison was gone before he could ask any of these questions. It was probably better that way. He heard the rumbling engine of her motorcycle quickly fade into the distance, and then he was alone.

)O(

"Hey, Sam," Madison said nonchalantly, holding the cellphone to her ear. She sat on her motorcycle in the parking lot of _The American Tribune_.

"Madison? Jesus, I thought the paparazzi had forced you into hiding! What have you been doing? Are you coming back to work soon?"

"That's why I'm calling." she began, slowly. "I'm outside, right now. I just...I don't want a mob of reporters to greet me, you know?"

Sam was quiet for a moment. "Got it. I'll see what I can do. But you know how they can be; maybe you should have thought about that before you ran off to play the heroine." _More like the guardian angel._ He meant it as a joke, of course, but it still hurt somehow.

_I just don't know when to stop, do I?_

Madison thanked him, hung up the phone, and mentally prepared for the journey ahead. Dreading the idea of being stuck in an elevator with someone who would no doubt want to play twenty questions once they realized she was indeed _the_ Madison Paige, she opted to take the stairs.

Her office was on the third floor. It was a large room shared by dozens of reporters all eagerly competing for a spot on the front page. Most of them had countless informants throughout the city, but Madison preferred to do the digging herself. All she needed was Sam. In all the years she'd known him, he had never once let her down, and this time was no different.

People eyed her expectantly, making a poor attempt at hiding the questions burning on the tips of their tongues. They were questions she had been asked before and refused to answer, for Ethan's sake. He wanted to forget the whole thing, just like Jayden did. And in all honesty, she wished she could, too. But Madison had long since come to grips with the fact that you had to confront these kinds of things, instead of just letting them fester in the back of your mind and give you nightmares.

The media would find something to appease the public though. It always did.

Madison made her way to her desk and sat down, turning on the computer. Maybe if she was thorough this time, no longer having to fear being caught by a certain profiler, she could find what she was looking for. Jayden was hiding something. _But what is it? There's no way it's that bad, right? He would have told me if..._

Why would he trust her just because she'd saved his life? She saved Ethan's life, too, and he didn't finally open up until she had done it three times over. Maybe men were just secretive. Was Sam keeping things from her as well?

_Don't be an idiot. He has never let you down, remember? You're exhausted, girl, and you aren't thinking clearly._

The search wasn't yielding many results, as it were. The FBI had gone to great lengths to keep its secrets. She could not find anything on the ARI program or the addictive substance known as triptocaine. There was only one option left. Well, besides confronting the ex-agent directly and threatening to throw him out on the street if he didn't tell her what she wanted to know. And if it was not for her goddamn guardian angel complex, she might do just that.

Sam was sitting at his own desk, concentrating on some document in front of him. He looked like he needed a distraction.

"Hello again." she said, announcing her presence. The man's blue eyes lit up behind his glasses when he saw who it was. He stood up and walked toward her, smiling that remarkably white smile of his.

"God, it is good to have you back. You have no idea how dull this place is without you."

"I can't stay." Madison said regretfully. "I have...something I have to take care of. Yes, I know I'm a bitch for disappearing for days and then coming back all famous only to run off again. But it gets even better. I need a favor."

The smile vanished. Sam ran a hand through his graying hair; he often said she was the reason for his gray hairs. Madison believed it.

"Shit, Mad, what could possibly be so important? Do you have another serial killer you have to go track down? Is that it?"

"Don't do this, Sam. Please...not now." The pleading note in her voice surprised them both.

For the first time in many years, an awkward silence stretched like an invisible barrier between them.

He sighed heavily and sat down again, grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper. Madison would owe him for this very soon. And yet on some level, she was aware that she took Sam for granted.

"All right," he said. "Tell me what you need, then go home; you look like you're about to fall asleep standing up."

So she told him everything she knew thus far, which unfortunately wasn't much.


	9. Chapter 9

If there was one thing Jayden hated most in this world, besides Carter Blake, it was having nothing to do.

That was part of the reason he had taken to ARI so quickly. It was extremely good at filling all the dull moments in his existence. It did such a wonderful job of making all his problems disappear when in reality, it only made them worse. Hell, it gave him a drug problem, after all.

_But it was a good run, wasn't it? You saved a few lives that you wouldn't have been able to without ARI's help._

_Yeah, but I couldn't save Shaun Mars. He'd be dead now if it weren't for Madison._

_She really is an angel, huh? Not bad to look at either…_

Jayden blinked. Where was that train of thought going? He did not want to know. Sure, she was beautiful and smart and she'd saved his ass on multiple occasions...But he just wasn't used to thinking of her in that way.

What the hell was he doing? He could handle this on his own, he always had before Madison came along. So why should that be any different now?

Jayden stood up and walked shakily to the bathroom. The first thing that caught his eye was how ridiculous the sink was; it looked more like a fountain with four taps added on. He searched Madison's medicine cabinet for something that would ease the pain in his head, his body screaming for tripto. It was extremely good at taking the pain away...

But he found only sleeping pills.

_Great…This is just fucking great._

At that moment, a drop of something dark and red slowly rolled from one of his nostrils all the way to his top lip.

_Blood_...of course it had to be blood.

It was happening again. The ex-agent's reflection became blurry and distorted in the mirror. The world spun faster and faster until his legs finally gave out from under him. Catching himself mid-fall, he backed away from the mirror, closing his eyes and attempting to breathe deeply.

Jayden's reflection was laughing at him.

)O(

Madison returned to her desk, dead tired, even more so than before. Sam had promised to do everything he could, but hacking into the FBI database was serious shit, just like Jayden warned. She yawned and rested her chin on her hands. _Maybe if I just close my eyes for a second..._

The phone rang. Madison bolted upright and fumbled for the receiver, her heart pounding.

"H-Hello?"

"Ms. Paige?" queried the high pitched voice of Julie, the secretary. "There is a call for you. He says it's urgent."

This didn't do much to calm her rapid heartbeat.

The line went dead silent. Madison waited, hardly daring to breathe, until she couldn't wait anymore. Panic was rising in her chest, threatening to swallow her whole.

"Norman?" she tried, hoping he was there. An eternity passed, then another...

"Madison..." The voice sounded strange through the receiver. "I called your cellphone. You didn't answer."

"I'm sorry." The purse laid on the desk beside her, cellphone in the front pocket, as always. "I was away from my desk for a minute. Is everything all right?" Though she knew simply from the tone of his voice that it was not.

"I..." Jayden hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "I needed to hear your voice." he said.

What did that mean? Something was very wrong, here.

"Okay," Madison took a deep breath. "Hang on, Norman. I'm coming home, just stay put."

Her body went on autopilot, performing the necessary tasks to get her back to the apartment safely. In truth, she didn't even remember most of the mad rush through the streets of Philly on her motorcycle. Taking the stairs two at a time, she eventually reached the fourth floor. Madison jammed her key into the lock and fiddled with it until the front door finally surrendered.

It didn't take Madison long to realize what little things were out of place. For one, a bottle of gin rested on the coffee table, about a third of its contents missing. Jayden was motionless on the couch once more, either asleep or unconscious. The profiler looked deathly pale and his hair was inexplicably wet. Traces of blood suggested his nose had been bleeding recently.

_What am I going to do with him?_

Just then, her cellphone started to vibrate in her purse. Madison answered it quickly, not wanting to disturb Jayden...unless that was the right thing to do in this kind of situation.

"What's going on, Mad?" it was Sam. "You ran out of the building like the world was coming to an end."

"I told you I had something to take care of." She could tell he wasn't buying it. "Look, I'll explain everything, just not now. It's too complicated to discuss over the phone."

"Yeah, well, if it has anything to do with that information you asked for, I can see why."

The journalist froze. "Did you find...?" Her voice faltered before she could finish asking the question, not that she needed to.

"It wasn't easy, but yeah, I did." Sam replied. "You really owe me this time, Mad."

"Always," she smiled, glancing toward the man lying on her couch. What was he hiding? "Tell me what you got, Sam, and I will tell you why I needed to know."

"You may want to sit down."


	10. Chapter 10

The FBI knew; they knew, and they didn't care.

It was one thing to hear Jayden talk about it, but quite another to have the numbers in front of her, the statistics...

Agent efficiency had risen exponentially since the ARI passed its first stages of testing and was made available to selected field agents. Jayden had been involved almost since the very beginning. He was very well qualified for the program: dedicated to his job, no current or previous outstanding medical issues, and no family to speak of. That of course meant there was no one to ask questions if something went wrong.

Of course something did go wrong. It was right here, just a brief paragraph deep in one of the files Sam had emailed her, shorter than an obituary. Five agents dead in the last year due to ARI-related complications. Surely they must have had friends who suspected what was being allowed to take place, but most of those friends were co-workers as well, forced into silence by the fear of losing their jobs.

The files said that agents using ARI were able to solve cases twice as fast. Not even Madison could deny that it was a revolutionary technology. It would save countless lives, but what of the lives it destroyed? What of the sacrifices made by the agents it killed? If ARI could prevent five people from being murdered, only to cause another five to die in the process, was it worth it?

Triptocaine was another matter entirely. One could go on forever about the ethics and hypocrisy of cops hooked on drugs given to them by the fucking federal government.

At least Jayden had gotten out before it was too late. But it was too late to demand the FBI answer for what they had done. The waver he'd signed before starting the ARI program would see to that.

The whole thing left a bitter taste in her mouth.

)O(

When Jayden opened his eyes, the sky was dark. He could hear rush hour traffic outside. Someone had switched on a lamp, and the windows let in quite a bit of light as well from all those illuminated buildings and signs.

"Is it raining?" Jayden found himself asking.

"Yep." Madison answered from somewhere not so far away. "Just wait 'til winter comes along. Then you have to deal with snow."

"Anything is better than all this damn rain."

Madison nodded, giving him the ghost of a smile. "You need to eat." she declared. Jayden suddenly realized that she was right. He hadn't eaten anything all day. Luckily, she had taken the liberty of ordering Chinese takeout.

"Aren't _you_ going to eat something?"

"I, uh, have plans with a friend." she said, though he could tell that Madison wasn't being entirely truthful.

Madison quickly performed the same ritual surrounding leaving her apartment. She made sure everything she needed was with her, and shut the door, therefore allowing to him to attend to his meal alone.

Like he always did, Jayden cracked open the fortune cookie first. He'd once heard that it was bad luck, but continued to do it anyway.

The small slip of paper read: 'If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain.'

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

And then he remembered why he hated fortune cookies and their goddamn ambiguous messages.

)O(

Madison took a seat across from Sam in the dim light of the restaurant which also doubled as a bar after midnight. At least there was little chance of anyone recognizing her. Sam was smiling to himself.

"You know, I took Kathy here on our first date." he started, then laughed. "She said the chicken was dry and sent it back. You should have seen the look on that poor waiter's face! Anyway, that was when I knew she was the woman for me."

Sam was not a sentimentalist by any means, but when he spoke of _her_...

Kathy was his wife; they'd been married for five years so far. She was a bartender who worked nights. At the age of forty-one, Kathy was getting a bit old to still be a bartender, but she enjoyed her job and was good at it. As a result of their separate schedules, the two saw very little of each other these days. It was Madison's personal opinion, because she would never tell Sam this no matter what, that Kathy did not deserve him.

"So how is the book coming?" Sam wanted to know.

"Ugh, horribly," she admitted. "Whenever I go to write I just keep thinking...It's just so fresh in my mind, you know? I mean, I know people want the facts, but..."

Sam shook his head. "People want to know about Madison Paige. They want to know what it's like to single-handedly take down the Origami Killer. There will be other journalists to report the facts, but there is only one of you."

Madison picked at her dinner in silence while she thought this over. Maybe he was right.

_Of course he's right. Has he every been wrong?_

"Now I believe you promised to explain why you needed top-secret government information." Sam prompted.

"Remember that profiler Washington sent to help capture the Origami Killer?" she asked. He nodded. "Well, he's sort of...living on my couch."

When Madison dared to meet his eyes, she saw that the older man was looking at her like she had lost her fucking mind. "You're kidding." he stated. "Jesus, Mad, tell me this is a joke. He's not a stray cat or something. You got lucky last time; Ethan Mars is a good man, but—"

"Norman is a good man, too." Madison interrupted, suddenly defensive on the former agent's behalf.

"He is a drug addict!" Sam exclaimed while attempting to keep his voice down.

"I know that!" She hissed back, trying to calm herself. "But it isn't all his fault. The FBI never warned him. They didn't give a shit as long as he was doing good work. Norman is trying to give up triptocaine, but it's difficult for him. There are moments sometimes...when he seems a million miles away from reality. I think he feels guilty - maybe even responsible somehow - for what happened to Shaun."

"That's ridiculous. The kid's safe, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but Ethan came pretty close to losing him..." Madison remembered it vividly. "Shaun wasn't breathing when I got there."

"_Jesus_..." Sam sighed, rubbing his temples. "Just be careful, all right? We still don't really know who this guy is."

"You're always so protective of me." It was her turn to sigh.

"Yeah, well, someone has to be."

They split the bill at her insistence. Then Sam offered to drive her home, refusing to take 'no' for an answer. And as she sat in the passenger seat of his silver Toyota, absently counting the streetlights as they passed by, Madison felt her body sink down into the leather as she succumbed to exhaustion.

The ride was over all too soon.

"Hey, Mad, we're here." She decided not to respond and kept her eyes closed, hoping he would go away. "Madison, wake up. Come on, I'm not carrying you; my old knees can't take it."

"You're not old..." she muttered as a way of hopefully stalling the inevitable. Luckily, he took the bait.

"Well my knees would disagree with you on that." Sam scowled. "So would my doctor."

"I thought he was a prick." Madison said, remembering a rather irritable Sam returning from an appointment a few weeks ago. Apparently the doctor had taken great pleasure in reminding him of his own demise and explaining all the ways in which Sam's body could potentially screw him over as he aged. This was particularly rude because it remained a well know fact that Sam had minor hypochondriac tendencies.

"That's Dr. Prick to you." he quipped. "And he would just _love_ the opportunity to gloat if I injured myself carrying you up all those stairs to your apartment."

"I'm surprised you would even seek medical attention." Madison observed, feeling significantly more awake by this point. "No one else I've met recently seems very willing to do so."

Then they parted ways. Madison thanked Sam for everything, kissed him on the cheek, and reluctantly climbed the endless stairs to her apartment. At least Jayden was conscious this time. In fact, she found him at the table with a newspaper. He was frowning.

"How was it?" Jayden asked without looking up.

"It was nice." she answered automatically.

And then he did look up, his pale eyes focused on her. But his face remained neutral, blank and altogether unreadable.

"You still want to know why I quit the Bureau, don't you?" he asked then, though it hardly seemed like a question to her. Nevertheless, she nodded wordlessly and he proceeded to tell it. "Like any great story, it all started when I fucked up . . ."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Flashback time! If you'd be so kind as to review, I'd be most grateful.

)O(

_**Three weeks earlier...**_

Friday

6:30p.m.

Only a few hours were left to save Shaun Mars, and he was reaching the end of his rope. A lack of sleep and triptocaine were starting to take their toll. The information he needed had to be somewhere in ARI's data, but its idea of 'helping' was apparently to give him a headache.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, Carter Blake decided at that moment to let himself into Jayden's office. That was never a good sign.

"All packed up and ready to go?" Blake asked in a bizarrely light tone.

Jayden removed the glasses and stared at the other man in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The investigation's over. _I_ caught the Origami Killer, everyone is happy, and your services are no longer needed." Blake smiled triumphantly. "I'd be lying if I said I was gonna miss you."

"Ethan Mars is _not_ the Origami Killer." the profiler ground out, trying to suppress the tide of anger rising inside him. "He's innocent and you know it! You have no solid evidence connecting him to this case."

"That doesn't matter now. At least I have more than theories, which is all you got." the lieutenant responded calmly. "You're done, Norman, so why don't you pack up and fuck off?" Then he turned to leave, but Jayden was already on his feet now.

"Blake," he shouted. "You are an unbalanced, psychopathic asshole!" It was everything he'd ever wanted to say since meeting him. The asshole in question turned around and grinned.

"I'll take that as a compliment." he said.

Once he had gone, Jayden fell back into the chair, his pulse racing. He might have even smashed ARI at that point. Before he knew what was happening, the vial was in his hand. For so long, he had been able to resist, but now the blue powder was just too goddamn compelling. Jayden brought the vial to his nose, and breathed deep...

It was an admission of failure, and it wouldn't be his last that day either. And as much as he also hated to admit it, this wasn't entirely Blake's fault; Blake hadn't forced him to take triptocaine.

Speaking of tripto, it was becoming increasingly difficult to think about his failures. All at once the anger, pain, frustration, self-pity - everything melted away. His eyes settled on the ceiling, which was infinitely fascinating in its off-whiteness. Then his heart rate returned to normal and a few wonderfully thoughtless minutes passed.

But it was over just as quickly. Worries resurfaced and he caught sight of ARI, which now laid forgotten on the dust-covered surface of his desk. _Well, never forgotten, just set aside for a rainy day...a day like today_...All right, maybe the effects of the tripto hadn't completely worn off yet.

Jayden sat at the desk in his own private autumn forest, sunlight streaming down from the trees. He sifted through every virtual file and tiny shred of evidence, searching for a name, a place - _something_. But then the first bolt of lightning struck the earth. The sky above him darkened; it began to rain. This was not normal.

A single rivulet of blood slowly trickled down his cheek.

Immediately, Jayden's heart sank, because he had failed. He had screwed up somewhere along the line, missed a vital clue, rendering the puzzle unsolvable. Not even ARI could help him now.

ARI was trying to kill him.

Pulling the glasses off his face, he blinked rapidly, eyes readjusting to the terrible realness of the small room. Then he flung the glove aside as well. No triptocaine, not now, even though he felt utterly powerless. How had his life spiraled out of control so fucking fast?

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered if Shaun Mars died. And right now that boy's life was in his hands, and he had failed. Many times during the investigation, Jayden had felt like he was the only one on the police force actually trying to save the kid; he hoped that wasn't true.

_You might as well have drowned him yourself, Norman, and all the others._

Teardrops mixed with blood, and the seconds kept on slipping away.

)O(

It had been a long time since he hadn't worn a suit.

"Are you sure you've thought this through, Norman?" Jayden's superior asked, clearly displeased with the prospect of losing one of his best agents. _Oh yeah, I am damn sure._ The older man sighed and went on, "You have a promising career ahead of you." Jayden knew that, too, but it wasn't worth his sanity.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm done thinking." he said, the weariness evident in his voice. "I need to lead something like a normal life." If only he had the slightest idea what that meant. "I've just got a bit too close to everything recently. I need to step back, at least for a while."

It was the best explanation he could give. Of course the FBI wasn't entirely to blame either. Hell, he wouldn't have even been able to get as close as he had to catching the Origami Killer were it not for ARI's help, but it would have killed him, and he didn't want to die before at least turning forty. Was that selfish? Probably...

The older man picked up on the 'at least for a while' part and ran with it. "Will you be coming back to the FBI?" he asked next. Jayden wanted so much to be able to say 'no' with absolute certainty.

But even he had to admit that when sweet Lady Triptocaine called to him, there was little in this world that could keep them apart.

"I don't know." Jayden said. "I'm making no promises."

Then it came time to hand over his gun and his badge, which he placed on the desk with minimal hesitation. Finally, his fingers curled around the frames of the familiar glasses. They contained so much: an ocean, a forest, even another planet as well as proof of all his accomplishments and failures. Intense feelings of both regret and relief washed over him as he stared back into the mesh lenses, glaring at him from their place on the desk.

"You can keep your ARI, if you like." his superior informed him, perhaps noticing Jayden's apprehension. "This one's going off-line; there's a new model due next month."

For some reason, he wanted to punch that man in the face. Why did he have to make this more difficult? Why did he have to suggest Jayden keep the very device that was out to kill him?

"I...I think you'd better take it back." he insisted, wondering what they would do with his personal universe. Probably just destroy it. _You know_ _it's for the best, Norman. Otherwise it will destroy you instead. _"It's just a little too compelling." That was true. Then he added, much quieter, "And it won't help me where I'm going: the real world."

That was also true.

"Whatever you want," The man who would not be his superior for very much longer looked at him. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Norman." It was the most genuine thing he had ever said to Jayden.

At last, he stood up and nodded, already moving toward the door. "I hope so, too." he said.

The real world was waiting.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** So I gave Norman a flashback, and then Madison wanted one as well. The good news is it lets me write more of Sam, whom I adore, but unfortunately you'll have to wait for things to return to the present. Hang in there, folks!

)O(

Tuesday  
March 23rd, 2010  
5:17p.m.

The Philadelphia airport was the kind of place that almost made you proud to live there. Its incredibly high windows and warm atmosphere almost made up for the fact that it was, in essence, just an airport. All that grand architecture contrasted sharply with the world Madison had come to know in the past two years. The last time she had walked through this terminal, she had been afraid. At best she was going to be a stranger in a foreign land, at worst she was the enemy.

But now she could put all that behind her. It was over. She no longer had to worry about the very real possibility of getting murdered in the street. Well, not nearly as much anyway. Madison's life could finally return to normal. Even though she'd probably never forget the war-torn country. Madison simply could not erase the things she had witnessed from her mind.

...Camps of refugees desperate for some sense of safety, the spark in the eyes of someone who knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that they were about to die, the compassion of strangers, the cries of the wounded, the sound of their voices while they told her the stories as only they could, sometimes with their last breath...

"Hey, you all right, girl?"

Madison snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the familiar voice of her most trusted informant and friend.

"Sorry," she said, feeling stupid. "I guess I'm a little out of sorts. I didn't sleep well; I think it's the time difference and everything..." In truth, she hadn't slept at all on the plane, meaning she had been awake for twelve hours already, plus the day before departing from Baghdad...

Sam nodded. "No problem. We'll get you some coffee and you'll be right as rain."

"God, I would _kill _for a decent cup of coffee right now." Madison replied, but he didn't move. Instead, Sam held out his arms to her expectantly.

"Come here," he requested. She blinked, confused by this.

"What?"

"Come here," he repeated, his smile never fading. "I don't see you for _two years_, offer to pick you up from the airport as well as buy you coffee, and you won't even give me a hug?"

Understanding hit her like a ton a bricks. Madison gladly accepted the embrace, realizing how long it had been since she experienced this kind of physical contact with another person. Then she realized just how much she needed a friend, because suddenly she was crying onto the collar of his shirt and she didn't know why.

Sam noticed this and proceeded to freak out, the way men do when women start to cry for no reason.

"Oh shit, Mad, you know I didn't mean any of that, right?"

"Yeah, I-I know." she said, feeling a billion times more stupid than before. "My emotions are all mixed up. I can't think straight. I'm so tired, Sam...I'm so _fucking_ tired." Then Madison began to cry harder, upset by the thought of looking like an idiot by sobbing in the middle of the airport like this.

Kathy was like that too sometimes, so he had at least had some experience in dealing with irrational women who cried for no reason. _Only Kathy does have a reason, and it's called menopause._

They waited twenty minutes for the turnstile to bring around all her luggage. Then, with the suitcases securely stored in the trunk of Sam's car, they drove toward the nearest source of caffeine which turned out to be a _Starbucks_ just ten blocks away from the airport.

Madison was staring out the window at the city that looked the same as when she'd left, but felt very different. And then it occurred to her that it was not the city that had changed, but the journalist herself. War changes people, even those objective seekers of truth, whose task it is to be observers.

They talked a little. Well, Sam talked, she listened. He talked about Kathy and work and other insignificant things. He tried to make her smile; she tried to let him.

"So what exactly have I missed?" Madison asked, lifting her gaze from the creamy depths of her latte to meet Sam's bright blue eyes.

"Well, I was going to wait to tell you this, but..." he lowered his voice, "There's a new lunatic on the streets who's been named the Origami Killer, because he leaves an origami figure in the right hand of his victims, and an orchid on the chest. But that's not even the most twisted part. He only murders kids, Mad, and he does it by drowning them in rainwater."

The thought sent a chill through her very core.

"Oh my god..." she breathed, wishing there was less death in the world. She didn't want to believe this could be true, but that's thing: she _did_ believe it. That was just the kind of fucked up world they lived in. "Don't the police have any leads at all?"

Sam shook his head sadly. "Not a damn thing. This guy's methodical. He plans out every last detail and doesn't leave a trace. Plus, he only kills in the fall when it rains the most, so I guess the cops have more important matters to attend to until another little boy turns up dead. Honestly, sometimes I think they wouldn't get anything done if it weren't for the media hounding them all the time."

"That just isn't right. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Madison was very familiar with the incompetence of the Philadelphia police force. In fact, they both were. "You seem to know a lot about it though."

"Maybe a bit more than the average citizen," Sam shrugged. "I've been following the case pretty closely. What can I say?" He suddenly looked sheepish. "The bastard's drowning kids, you know?"

He drove Madison to her apartment and dropped her off. She stood on the sidewalk with her luggage, waving until Sam's silver Toyota disappeared around the corner. Madison's first thought was to go inside, but she just couldn't face the emptiness of it quite yet.

So she kept walking as the sun kept sinking and the world she once knew grew dark, cold and unbearably lonely.

Eventually, she reached a motel. This sight was very familiar to her by now. She already had her suitcases, so Madison checked in, feeling like a stranger in her own life.

And while she lay there, surrounded in spirit by the other guests staying at the motel - all of them just as lost or drifting or uncertain as she was - Madision started to feel less alone, less afraid of what the future held.

Finally, she could sleep, but what Sam had said about the Origami Killer still haunted her. And indeed, her dreams were filled with paper that folded itself into elaborate origami, and orchid petals falling through empty space.

Madison awoke to the perpetual pitter-patter of gentle spring rain.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all my readers for their continued support. I am truly appreciative. This chapter is a bit shorter since it's mostly just a transition back into the present. But there's some action as well. No, not _that_ kind of action…

)O(

Once everything had been said, they retreated back into their separate shells made of crushed hope and memories, both of them wanting very much to be alone for a while.

"So why did you join the FBI in the first place?" Madison broke the silence first. "I mean, why did you put up with it, if they treated you like a pawn all those years?"

"I guess I thought I could make a difference." Jayden replied, his expression somber. "I'm almost grateful for the opportunity, in some weird way. I might even do it all over again if I had the chance. It was worth it, for a long time. That probably sounds crazy."

"Not at all," She shook her head. "Personally, I became a journalist because I'm nosy by nature and I discovered I could make money off it."

But Jayden didn't believe her for a second, because underneath that rough and world-weary exterior, they were all secretly idealists. That's why people celebrated heroines like her, who appeared at just the right time to save the day, often forgetting that the reality never quite lived up to what they expected. No one ever came away from that unscarred. Murder had a way of making cynics of us all, he supposed.

"I'm gonna take a walk." he announced.

"In the rain?" Madison raised an eyebrow. "At _night_?"

"Yeah." he said. "I gotta stretch my legs a bit, get a little fresh air, maybe figure some things out."

"Okay..." she yawned, her body already slumped against the couch cushions, eyes-half closed. "I'll just rest my eyes...until you get back." The girl sure looked like she could use the rest.

Jayden grabbed an umbrella and slipped out of the apartment as quietly as possible.

)O(

Madison held her breath.

It wouldn't be safe here for much longer. In fact, it wasn't safe here now.

They were going to find her, and when they did, they were going to kill her. Slowly.

Cautiously, she peered out of the closet door, the outside illuminated by a thin sliver of light. And Madison nearly had a heart attack when she saw another eye looking right back at her. It was over.

Her tormentor was suddenly closing in, and she tried to fight, but he was stronger. They were always stronger. Before she even had time to fully comprehend what was happening, he had her pinned against hardwood floor. The masked man loomed over her.

"_No_!" Madison screamed, flailing about every limb she could still feel in some sort of attempt at defending herself. In response, he tried to restrain her. "No, please...Oh God, don't—_Stop_!"

Then, remarkably, he did stop. In fact, he froze completely still and just looked at her, this time with something like sympathy in his pale eyes.

"Madison," he said, slowly. "I need you to wake up, okay?"

She was jolted from the nightmare so suddenly that it took a moment for her to catch her breath. A blanket that she did not remember falling asleep with was now covering her.

"You were screaming." Jayden said, hovering over her in a concerned and very annoying manner. "I think you had a nightmare." _Wow, really? Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Jayden?_

Madison was just about to say this when she realized something rather alarming but not particularly surprising anymore. "You're bleeding, you know."

He instinctively brought a hand up to his nose and examined the bright red liquid on his fingers.

_Wait a minute. Did I...?_

"Oh, yeah." he said. "It's not what you think—you just sort of kicked me in the face while you were sleeping."

She immediately felt like an absolute bitch. "Oh my god, Norman, I'm so sorry! I-I really didn't mean to—"

"It's all right." Jayden assured her, offering a small smile. "Don't worry about it. You didn't break my nose or anything."

Madison was beyond embarrassed. This was, after all, her shameful little secret. Only a select few people in the whole world knew about it, and now he was one of them whether she liked it or not. It was an exclusive club that so far only Madison's therapist, Sam and mostly likely Kathy were invited to be apart of.

"What time is it anyway?" When he glanced down at the watch which laid on the coffee table and informed her that it was indeed 2:47 in the morning, Madison sighed. She was torn between laughter and tears. "Of course it is."

There was nothing left to say.


	14. Chapter 14

Madison opened her eyes and gradually let her senses become reacquainted with the physical world. At first she dreaded the idea of getting up and facing the day, until something her senses detected evoked a warmth deep inside her heart. It was the scent of syrup and sunshine; joy and divine sugary sweetness. It stirred up every fond memory she had from her childhood, before her mother died and Madison was forced to be an adult at the age of fifteen.

The clock read: 7:03a.m.

It seemed Jayden was making waffles. _That's odd; I don't even remember owning a waffle iron. _Madison found it interesting to watch him when he thought no one was looking. He was relaxed, totally unguarded...

Gathering her energy, she managed to sit up at last. Though her back ached slightly from being pressed into the couch all night, which despite its deceivingly comfortable appearance, actually contained a network of metal bars and other devices meant to torture the human spine.

"Good morning," Jayden said upon seeing her. He knew better than to ask if she'd slept well. That always seemed like a strange thing to say: 'Good morning.' was more of a wish than a greeting. But in the end, Madison agreed with the observation, and then she made one of her own.

"You cooked breakfast." she stated, equal parts incredulous and amused. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Don't get used to it." he smirked. "This is about the extent of my cooking skills."

"You are full of surprises, Mr. Profiler."

Maybe he felt like he owed her, or maybe he was just a nice guy. It was much more likely that his motivation was a little of both. Shouldn't she be cooking for him to make amends for almost breaking his nose last night? Were they friends now? Was he still living here simply because he had nowhere else to go?

"I could make some coffee." Madison offered. She hated sitting around while he did all the work and she contributed nothing useful. But Jayden simply grinned and held up a cup of the blackest coffee she'd ever seen.

"There's no need." he said. "Do you think I could've woken up at 6:30 this morning and made waffles without at least having a little java first?"

Madison blinked. "Wait a second...6:30 this morning? You have been up for half an hour just making waffles and coffee? Does it even take that long?"

"It does to make _good_ waffles." he said. _Still full of surprises, I see._

It turned out that he was right. As far as waffles go, they were pretty fantastic. He must have had time to perfect his singular skill in the field of cooking while he wasn't running around on super secret FBI business. Yes, she could get used to this quite easily.

Jayden asked if she had to go work today, obviously unaware that today was Saturday. She did not have to work, but she _did_ have somewhere she to be. He wanted to know where that was, and she decided to tell him the truth.

"I have a, uh, appointment with my therapist." she admitted, eyes downcast. _There is nothing to be ashamed of, girl._

"Wow. So, Madison Paige - the epitome of stability - sees a _shrink_?" Like many things about Norman Jayden, his reaction surprised her. "You actually fall for that bullshit?"

"A lot of people have therapists." Madison pointed out, defensive now. "Don't you have a fucking _degree_ in psychiatry?"

"Psychology," Jayden corrected. "Criminal psychology, specifically."

"And the difference is...?"

He sighed, drinking his coffee. "Psychiatrists prescribe drugs you probably don't need but will eventually come to appreciate. Psychologists request an amount of money you'd seriously have to be crazy to even consider paying in exchange for advice that supposedly helps you to become less crazy. If that doesn't work, and that person ends up killing someone, criminal psychologists figure out why they would do such a thing. Usually the reason is a bad therapist."

Madison was speechless. She took a moment to absorb his words and then said, "I think you're the one who could benefit from a little therapy."

But he just smirked. "You are not the first to tell me that, you know."

At least that wasn't so surprising.

)O(

Her therapist's office was located in the heart of Downtown Philly. It was just one of many offices crammed into this impossibly tall building, and there were many more buildings of its kind. The skyscraper in question was a rather dull shade of gray; the interior wasn't much better. Whitewashed walls greeted her. Madison took the elevator to the sixth floor, thankfully alone, as there were only a few things she loathed more than forced elevator conversation. Not that she was unfriendly or anything. Madison just preferred to avoid pointless social obligation.

"Ah. Hello, Ms. Paige, we've been expecting you." the secretary said from her place behind the desk, smiling brightly. "Please take a seat over there. Dr. Eberson should be with you in a moment."

Oh yes, the Waiting Game. That was always fun. At first, when she was still new to all this, Madison would pretend to read the magazines while trying to come to terms with the fact that she was really about to pay someone money to listen to her problems. Then she actually _did_ read the magazines, which hadn't been replaced for years. Now, with nothing else to do, Madison would sit and try to imagine what sort of mental distress might have brought the other people together in this room to do the same.

Soon enough, the doctor was ready to see her.

Dorothy Eberson was a short Jewish woman, middle-aged and somewhat overweight in that way that you honestly can't imagine how ever being thinner would work out proportionately. There was nothing really remarkable about the woman. And though it's probably superficial, that was part of the reason Madison liked her. She simply didn't want to have someone prettier than herself expose all of her faults and shortcomings and dark secrets. That would be too much.

Other than that, the doctor was a kind and patient soul; you had to be with a profession like hers. In fact, the only thing even remotely remarkable about Dr. Eberson was that she had been doing this for over thirty years.

The walls were painted a faded lavender color. Abstract paintings 'decorated' those walls. And harsh florescent lights cast an insistent glow on everything in sight. Madison was made to sit on the sofa across from Dr. Eberson, who had taken her usual chair. A louder-than-average clock dominated the silence, eagerly ticking away.

"How are you?" the doctor asked casually enough, wasting no time in probing her with for personal information. "Are you taking the pills? Have you been sleeping any better?"

"No," she said by way of answering both questions. "I'm...I'm still having the Dream. I thought I'd be used to it by now but...I think I'm okay." she realized. "I met someone recently. He makes delicious waffles and he doesn't believe in therapy, though he probably needs it." Madison stopped talking, under the impression that Dr. Eberson would say something to that, but she didn't. "...I've also been thinking a lot about my mother."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I woke up thinking about her, in fact." Then she looked down, gaze fixed on the depressingly gray carpet, and fell silent.

"Tell me about her, Madison." the therapist urged. "We need to discuss this eventually. It will never go away unless you confront it directly." And she was right. Of course she was right.

"I-I don't really know where to start." she admitted.

Dr. Eberson smiled. "Just start talking and don't stop."

"Well...all right. It was maybe a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday . . ."

)O(

**A/N:** Oooh! Do I feel another flashback coming on? I think I do...

Review please! 


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Madison is thought to be 27 years old in-game, because that is what she writes when she checks into the motel. However, if she dies, it is revealed that she is/was 30 at the time. I support the theory that she simply lied about her age, probably due in part to the fact that the guy was a creep. Hence the timing of this flashback.

)O(

Friday  
June 5, 1995  
4:10p.m.

Summer was nearly in full swing. Only a week of school separated the children from months of relaxation and fun. Madison was thrilled to be nearly done with her first year of high school. She preferred to spend her days reading anyway, or - when she was much younger - solving mysteries.

"Maddy!" Adrian, her ten-year-old little brother, called through the many rooms of their modest suburban house. "Maddy, I need you!"

"Adrian, buddy, what's wrong?" She knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder in an effort to calm the boy.

"Josh is hurt - I think he was in another fight or something - I tried to get Mom, but she wouldn't wake up and I know she needs her rest." Adrian paused to breathe. "So then I called Dad's office - I know he said only to do that if it's an emergency but this _is_ an emergency! The lady who answered the phone wasn't very nice and she said Dad already left the office for the day but he isn't here yet and Josh is _bleeding_ and you gotta help him, Maddy!"

He had worked himself up now to the point of sobbing. Madison's mind went into hyperdrive; she suddenly knew exactly what to do, or she thought she did anyway. That was good enough.

Josh was indeed banged up pretty bad. Madison caught a glimpse of his injuries as he staggered through the front door. Much of the flesh that was not covered by his torn clothes was, in fact, covered by small to moderately-sized bruises. They ranged greatly in color and looked rather painful, but not as painful as the cut on his forehead.

Shit, what if he needed stitches?

Madison helped him to the couch where he proceeded to collapse heavily onto the cushions, seemingly exhausted from having to drag his beaten body home. She instructed Adrian to find all the first-aid supplies they had and pile them on the coffee table, which he did in record time.

The most pressing issue was the laceration. First she applied pressure to the wound until the bleeding stopped. Luckily, it wasn't deep enough to require stitches. Everything she needed was right here. Madison cleaned the cut gently with warm water before disinfecting it. After the bandage was on, she simply sighed and looked at him.

"Thanks." Josh said.

"He kicked your ass, didn't he?" Madison demanded, the corners of her mouth quirking into a kind of smile.

"What makes you think that?"

But her smile was gone just as quickly. "Why don't you grow up? You're seventeen, for God's sake! I mean, Dad is going to kill you! Mom can't handle this shit right now, you _know_ she can't, and you nearly scared Adrian to death!"

"What about you, Maddy?" he asked calmly. "What do you think?"

"I think you are an idiot." Madison replied. "And I think you're going to get yourself killed one day because I won't always be there to fix everything for you."

Just then, a car pulled into the driveway. Adrian ran outside to greet their father while Josh prepared to be yelled at and she prepared to be ignored. That was the way of things, now.

In the past, before they even knew what congestive heart failure was or how devastatingly it would change their lives, it was always their mother who fixed things. But since she was too frail and sick to do so, the job ultimately fell to Madison.

)O(

The phone rang during English class: Madison's favorite class. Everyone in the room fell silent when they noticed the grim look on their teacher's face. What terrible thing had happened? Which one of them would she address?

The answer was already abundantly clear.

"Madison, your father is downstairs." the aging woman said too kindly, pity in her round eyes. "Take your things with you, please."

She wouldn't be coming back. Linda had been in and out of hospitals for months, but this was different; she could feel it. There was no denying the truth any longer: Linda Paige was dying. Of course, she wanted to say goodbye. But what was she supposed to say to the person who had raised her, whose only wish it had been to see her only daughter walk across that stage and receive her high school diploma?

A wish that would never be granted…

The rest of the students fixed her with sympathetic looks as she left the room, running through the empty halls until at last she reached the front doors where her father waited.

They drove on in near perfect silence. Adrian was crying and no one faulted him for it. Madison noticed that Josh wasn't in the car, and when she asked her father why, he said it was because he was already at the hospital.

Madison hated hospitals. The bright lights and semi-sterile environment made her feel uncomfortable and nervous. Not to mention it didn't help seeing her mother like that...

Linda was lying in a pristine white bed, tubes and wires snaked in and out of her pale frame, connected to various machines that monitored and even controlled aspects of its function. The rhythmic _'beep, beep, beep'_ was the only true indication that she was actually alive at all.

The heartbeat was weakening rapidly. Her breathing was labored, but she _was_ breathing, at least.

Linda's spirit started to fade, and she was so thin now that Madison could practically _see_ every vein inside her.

"The angels are waiting for me..." Linda smiled, delirious from the drugs.

Madison just didn't have the heart to tell her that she no longer believed in God or Heaven or angels, especially angels.

Not long after that, her body finally gave out and she went into cardiac arrest. The machines could do nothing for her, now. Doctors and nurses ushered the irrevocably broken family into the hall. There was silence once more, but of a different kind. Adrian was crying again, as was she. Josh simply looked angry.

And Robert Paige stood away from the others, stone-faced and solemn, trying to imagine how this could really be happening. Just a few hours ago he'd tried to wake his wife, but his efforts were all to no avail. Her condition had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, and there was no going back.

From then on they would try to force some sense of normality into their lives, mostly for Adrian's sake. Robert worked more than was necessary and, when he finally came of age, Josh enlisted in the army.

Madison hoped this did not mean her prediction was coming true.

)O(

The session ended. Dr. Eberson bid her farewell and then it was over. Madison set off on the long trek through falling snow and ice to her apartment. There was no doubt about it now: winter was definitively approaching fast.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Here we are, back in the present for another short chapter. And one of my reader's predictions is about to come true: Madison will soon have to face her uncomfortableness with hospitals.

Review!

)O(

"Is there anything you miss about your life before?" Madison blurted out that night. She had been talking about her past with Dr. Eberson, and she found herself wondering about his. The good parts, too, not just the bad ones.

"My life mostly revolved around work, so I can't say I miss that much." But even this wasn't entirely true, as he did in fact remember certain aspects of the job fondly. At least back then he was doing something important. Jayden tapped his fingers absently on the tabletop. "I suppose I do miss my piano though."

Long before the days of ARI and tripto, it had been the one thing that offered some kind of escape.

"Really? Huh...I never would have pegged you as the type."

"Yeah, neither would I." Jayden muttered, watching the snow fall. This city really was magnificent in the winter.

"Well," Madison grinned devilishly. "You know what happens now, right?"

"Sorry?" He looked at her, confused. What the hell was this crazy woman planning?

"You have to show me, of course." she said. "I know of a place with a piano that's open this late. I want you to play for me. Please?"

Jayden was more than happy to oblige.

)O(

The frost had a way of turning all the trees silver.

Madison still didn't trust him to ride on her motorcycle, which wasn't entirely without good reason. So they walked the nine blocks instead, consistently attacked by bitter cold wind.

The bar was alive with its typical patrons, which included the usual regulars and some unfamiliar faces who appeared to be new to life at the bottom of the barrel. And as always, the unappreciated piano dutifully remained in its own corner, like a diamond in the rough. Its ivory keys, which had once gleamed, were now dull with age and neglect. Truly, the instrument was a pitiful sight indeed.

Madison waited patiently for the bartender to notice them standing there.

Finally, she did. "What do you want?"

"Um, hi there, Kathy...Don't you remember me? We've met several times."

"Look, honey, a lot of people come in here. I can't be expected to remember all of them, can I?"

"I'm a friend of your husband's." Madison said, though she was unsure of exactly why she cared so much whether the woman knew who she was or not.

"Wait," Kathy frowned. "I _have_ seen you before; you're the girl with the nice ass...Melissa, right?"

"Actually, it's Madison. And this is my friend, Norman."

Kathy nodded. "Uh-huh. Now what do you want?"

She ordered a gin and tonic and Jayden ordered vodka with no ice. It took only a few minutes before they had their drinks. Despite all her bitchiness, Kathy was an incredibly efficent bartender.

Then they picked their way through the crowd to where the lonely piano still waited.

It hadn't been tuned in years, so anything he played sounded just a little off, but the effect was the same. She marveled over his 'extraordinary' ability, even more so as she continued to drink. _So there's more to him than profiling and waffles. How very...interesting._

It was a good evening, but one fated to end in disaster.

At first it was something as innocent as Kathy dropping a customer's drink, the glass shattering into a million pieces on the ground. That kind of thing happened all the time; there was nothing you could do about it after the fact, but then...

"I-I can't feel my arm..." Kathy said, utterly shocked and probably scared half to death. She had been perfectly fine a minute ago, and now she didn't even seem to fully comprehend what was happening. "That's...strange...isn't it?"

Madison had only a second to react before the bartender fell face first onto the glass-covered floor. Her mind struggled to think quickly and rationally through the haze caused by alcohol consumption, but all she could conclude was that this was very bad indeed.

She vaguely registered the blaring of sirens in the distance. Jayden was saying something, something urgent, but for some reason she couldn't make out the words. Kathy tried to fight the paramedics as they lifted her onto a stretcher which they then hastily loaded into the back of a waiting ambulance.

All this had stirred up quite a commotion; interested spectators gathered around, hoping for a glimpse of the action. It suffocated Madison, who was still having difficulty thinking properly. And so, without thinking, she forced her way through the mass of drunken onlookers and did not stop until she found herself standing in the snow.

If need be, she would run after that ambulance all the way to the hospital.

_I owe Sam at least that much._


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, folks. Dragon Age 2 has had me preoccupied both in the real world and the world of fanfiction. I also apologize for the super short chapter. Review: it makes me smile!

)O(

"The coffee here is terrible." Jayden reported, returning from his little adventure to the hospital cafeteria, ostensibly unsuccessful. He sat down beside her in one of the many uncomfortable chairs next to the second floor nurses' station. Madison looked up; he was frowning.

"You don't have to stay, you know." she reminded him for the tenth time that night. "It'll probably be a few hours before we find out anything. Besides, it isn't like you know her, or Sam."

"No, but I know you."

For whatever reason, that was the wrong thing to say. "Look, just wait for me back at the apartment, okay? You really could use some rest anyway. Do this for me, all right?"

Jayden seemed hesitant. That was understandable. But he reluctantly agreed to do as she asked of him. And it really was for the best since there wasn't any reason why he should feel obligated to be here.

Madison sighed; she hated hospitals.

Not even forty-five minutes after she'd closed her eyes, someone was shaking her shoulder gently in an attempt to wake her up. Madison looked around slowly, forcing her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Sam was worried and so very tired, they all were.

"The doctors say she had a minor stroke." he said. "They still have to run some tests, but they think she should make a full recovery."

"Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry..." Madison was on the verge of tears.

"Hey, it'll be all right." He sat down and put his arm around her. "Kathy's a survivor. She always has been. And I know for a fact she doesn't want anyone crying over her."

But it wasn't Kathy she was worried about. That wasn't the reason at all. Sam was trying to be strong for her, and that somehow made it even worse.

They stayed like that for a while as the busy hospital moved and pulsed around them. She could feel the steady rhythm of it all, and it slowly lulled her to sleep. Not an ideal sort of sleep, mind you, but more like the kind of you enjoy on an airplane.

Sam managed to coax her into standing up. This truly was a remarkable feat. He then put her in a cab and promised to call in the morning with any updates. Madison was too tired to protest.

)O(

Meanwhile, Sam returned to the room where a nurse was currently drawing his wife's blood. Kathy glared at him as he approached. Eventually the nurse got what she needed and decided to give them a moment alone.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"If one more person asks me that question, I'm going to feel like killing someone." Then she looked at him, suddenly, with clarity in her eyes. "I want a divorce." she said.

Sam didn't believe it at first."You're confused." he declared. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I am not confused. You don't get it." Kathy snapped. "When I had that stroke, I realized how uncertain life is. I can't waste mine on insignificant things anymore. We have to stop pretending everything is okay. I deserve better." She saw his expression and added quietly, "So do you."

There was nothing he could say to that. It wasn't surprising. That remained the worst part. Sam was shocked to have this happen so abruptly, sure, but not surprised. They had both avoided this issue for a long time because actually filing for divorce took money and effort Kathy was not willing to put in at the moment. Apparently almost dying had changed all that.

In fact, he should have seen this coming. He was a goddamn fool for loving a woman who could only ever love herself.

Sam walked back into the hallway, nursing his broken heart, but Madison was long gone.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **I sincerely apologize for the late update. I've been terribly busy with other stories and video games, not to mention life and studying for my AP U.S. history test. Anyway, please review!

P.S. Ladies and gentlemen, and I am happy to present to you at last, the steamy bits!

All right, not really. It isn't explicit at all. But I hope you like it.

)O(

Madison lay on the bed and tried not to think about how infrequently the motel staff changed the sheets. She stared blankly up at the ceiling with its chipping paint; this room had a kind of dingy charm to it.

Usually, she could relax in a place like this, but sleep eluded her tonight. Something plagued her mind. It was guilt. Madison felt guilty that she could not do more to help Kathy for Sam's sake. She felt guilty for asking so much from him while giving nothing in return. Hell, she felt guilty for running away and not telling Jayden where she was.

She wanted very much to curl up in a ball and just sleep, or possibly die. Yes, that didn't sound so bad right now.

Madison turned on her side and spotted the phone sitting nervously on the bedside table. Suddenly she remembered the crumpled slip of paper Dr. Eberson had given her once, saying to call whenever she was feeling low or needed someone to talk to, which basically translated into the number she should call before she killed herself. They both knew it. _I could never go through with it anyway._

She considered the phone for another minute before picking up her cell instead and dialing the number for her landline. It rang only once. It was late but he'd clearly been expecting her call.

"Madison?" Jayden got right to the point.

"Hey," she said, suddenly and inexplicably embarrassed. What was she supposed to say?

"Where are you?"

"Don't worry. I'm fine." That was only partly true. "I was exhausted, so I rented a motel room. I'll stay here tonight and come home in the morning, okay?"

"Which one?" Jayden asked. "Madison, what's going on? You don't sound _fine_." Silence followed; the loud silence of tense phone calls, and electrical current struggling to maintain a connection that never should have been made in the first place. When Jayden spoke again, his voice was soft. "Talk to me."

"I can't." Madison whispered, holding the receiver close against her cheek as if someone might overhear. "I'm sorry."

Then she hung up.

Her heart was racing.

She still felt a bit like dying.

Instead, she burrowed deep beneath the covers and let the cellphone fall softly onto the hideous carpet. He called six times before Madison lost count, left messages, sent texts...

Finally, she slept.

)O(

Her absence made him want tripto. Not knowing where she was made him want ARI. But most of all he just wanted Madison. And right now Jayden sure as hell didn't have any of those.

He had to find her.

)O(

It should not have been a surprise that Jayden managed to track her down in the end. He was a fucking former FBI agent after all; he had to be good at finding people. But the knock at the door startled Madison from her fitful slumber nonetheless. Once she had reminded herself where she was, she went to let him in.

Jayden stood there, out of breath and very tired from the looks of him. In fact, he appeared to have done nothing but worry for God only knew how long. Madison felt unspeakably guilty for this, too. Had he actually sprinted up the seven flights of stairs to her room?

"It took you a while." she remarked, unsure of exactly why she said it.

"Yeah...I'm not used to working without ARI." he replied between gulps of air. "I went to, I don't know, four motels before this one..."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Jayden forced a smile. "I found you, and that's all that matters."

"No, it's not okay." Madison continued. "I'm such an idiot."

"I forgive you."

"You really shouldn't."

"Well I do."

To this day, she still isn't sure exactly which one of them initiated it, but they were kissing. They were back in her room, out of the rain, and they were kissing. It all quickly became a blur of heat and movement and overwhelming sensation. Everything was so painfully familiar, except the man. He was so wonderfully different. Not that Madison made a habit of fucking guys in cheap motels or anything.

Then they lay there in the dark, holding each other close. It was nice to be held like this. For the first time in many years, she felt completely safe. Madison sighed and let her body relax, not wanting to succumb to sleep just yet and forget even a second of this. God forbid if she woke up tomorrow and he hated her. But then, what could she possibly admit to that he hadn't forgiven her for already?

)O(

He needed nothing but her.

)O(

**A/N:** Jayden strikes me as someone who secretly enjoys cuddling, no?


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Well folks, only one or two chapters left after this one. You know what to do.

)O(

Light invaded his eyes, forcing them open. The curtains were drawn over the windows, turning natural light to a blue haze. It reminded Jayden of his sick love affair with sweet Lady Triptocaine. Not that it was the first time he'd woken up craving the drug. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

Truth be told, he didn't relish the idea of dragging his aching body out of bed. That would only mean another day of being useless, another day in which his analytical skills slowly became less sharp. Jayden never thought would actually miss murder. The constant craving for tripto merely reminded him of just how far he had fallen. It was proof that even after quitting the FBI and letting go of ARI, he still wasn't in control, because _it _was. His old life mocked him.

Jayden promised himself that he'd stop those bitter thoughts once he drank his equally bitter coffee, and with that promise, opened his eyes again.

The ceiling was painted brown. Luckily, most of the awful paint had peeled away. Memories started to come back to him upon seeing it, of the warm body that he suddenly realized was no longer beside him. That's because she was sitting in a chair, wearing nothing but her panties and his shirt. Madison was holding her cellphone in one hand and a pen in the other, which she was absently tapping against the desk.

"Oh my god..." she was saying. "Sam, I'm so sorry..." She caught his eye. "Yeah, of course I will. Just give me twenty minutes or so. I'll meet you there."

Madison hung up the phone a moment later. After that, they just looked at each other for a while, not saying anything. She sat there in his shirt, her brown hair limp and tangled. It was increasingly awkward, partly because she seemed unable to meet his eyes after that first time a mere moment ago.

Neither of them really knew what was supposed to happen next, having never had a serious relationship before. They'd both been faithfully committed to their jobs until recently, so much so that bringing a romantic partner into the mix would be terribly unfair to everyone involved.

But now that barrier, which had once been a large part of who they were, was gone.

"Is that my shirt?" Jayden finally asked.

"Oh, yeah." she replied. "Sorry, I had to put something on quickly; someone was at the door."

"Who was it?"

"Room service."

"Ah."

Madison stood up and began searching for her clothes. She found them, removed his shirt and tossed it aside. Jayden tried - and obviously failed - not to look at her as she stood there half-naked. But she dressed quickly, avoiding his eyes as well.

"Check out is at eleven." she said. "I'm leaving for a while. Sam and Kathy are going through a bit of a rough patch right now in addition to the whole medical scare."

"Are they gonna split up?"

"God, I don't know." Madison sighed. "You never know with Kathy. That woman is a psycho. But he loves her, more than she could ever love him. That's what's so sad about all this."

Soon she was gone, and he was left to wonder if they had made a terrible mistake.

)o(

"Are you sure it wasn't just the medication they had her on?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "That was all Kathy. I'm sure of it. In fact, she was more lucid than I've seen her in months. That's what doesn't make sense."

"I'm sorry, Sam." Madison said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't be." he replied dismissively. "She's right, though. We can't keep pretending this is working. She said we both deserve better."

Madison nodded. He really did. Kathy was a rather unpleasant person as well as a rather crazy one. Sam knew how unstable she was, but he'd vowed to stay with her 'til death do us part. So much for that. What had love ever done for her anyway? Besides put her in life threatening situations, of course. They were all better off without it.

"I slept with Norman." Madison blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Who?" Sam looked puzzled.

"The FBI agent guy?" She bit her lip sheepishly, preparing for the lecture of the century.

"You slept with the drug addict?"

"Former drug addict." Madison pointed out. "And former FBI agent."

"So what is this guy, then? It seems like he used to be a lot of things. Why did you sleep with him?"

"I don't know." she admitted, looking down at the table. "I think...it might have been a mistake. We could barely look at each other this morning. It was so awkward, Sam."

"It's always awkward after you fuck someone."

Madison wasn't completely sure that was an established fact. College, for example, had been a time for casual sex and experimentation. No awkwardness, no strings attached. So why did this have to be any different? Perhaps because they were grown ups now who should know how to carry on an adult relationship, but didn't.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." Sam scowled. "Look, the two of you aren't idiots, you just don't know where to go from here. That's pretty normal. You'll figure it out."

But they were idiots. Not just regular idiots, but fucking idiots. The worst kind imaginable.

"Thanks..."

"No, thank you." he smiled. "I needed a distraction. Your problems are a lot more fun to talk about than mine."

Later that afternoon, she returned to her apartment only to find that she was alone. There was a note from Jayden saying that he would be back soon. He was avoiding her and not being very subtle about it either.

Madison sat down in front of her laptop, staring at the unfinished document that continued to mock her. Publishers had been on her ass for weeks to complete the book while the story was still shiny and new. Ethan refused to talk about the whole ordeal, partly for Shaun's sake, so hers was the only eye witness account. The only one who was there in the middle of it all. The only one left who really knew Scott Shelby's motives.

And so, she placed her fingers on the keys, and started to write.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Six months later...**_

Talk shows were hounding Madison left and right for an interview. With the book finally released to an eager public and her national tour to promote it starting in only a few days, everyone wanted their own small piece of the fame, even Sam.

"You still there, Mad?" he asked.

"Yeah, sorry," Madison blinked, switching the phone to rest against her shoulder and her other ear. "I'm just a little out of it; the phone hasn't stopped ringing for a week."

He made a sympathetic noise in his throat, then said, "Read it again." Madison groaned. "Come on, please?"

She wearily flipped through her author's copy of _Heavy Rain_: the compilation of countless late nights spent writing, editing, and suffering two anxiety attacks as a result of re-living those terrible experiences that seemed so much more real now than they had at the time. It was exhausting in every sense of the word. Finally, she found the page she was looking for.

"'Special thanks to my good friend, Sam,'" Madison read aloud. "'Without whom none of this would have been possible. His invaluable insight and constant support have helped me in more ways than I can put into words. I will never be able to repay him.'" It was a long acknowledgement, but a necessary one.

"Aw, aren't you sweet." She could hear the smile in his voice. It had been a while since she'd heard it.

The divorce was finalized two weeks earlier. Ironically, the whole process had caused the two of them to spend more time together than when they were married. They often found themselves at his apartment, filling out paperwork over coffee or wine. Sometimes it got so late that Kathy stayed the night. It was torture for him, because he loved her and this was what he'd always hoped their relationship could be. But no matter how amicable those evenings were or how typically erratic Kathy's behavior was, she seemed to genuinely want this.

It was a relatively smooth process once all the legal stuff was out of the way. Kathy turned out to be more than willing to give most of their financial assets to him. The last Madison had heard of her, she ran off to Amsterdam or something. The woman lived in her own little world most of the time. It was impossible for anyone else to understand exactly how her reasoning worked. Jayden tried once, but all he had to offer were a bunch of fancy psychological terms that Madison wasn't familiar with anyway.

Her eyes ran down the list of names until she spotted Jayden's. The acknowledgement for him was short, simple, to the point, but it was exactly what she needed to say and was unable to.

_Thank you for believing in me. I don't know where I'd be without you._

)O(

Book signings, as she was quickly learning, were very repetitive things. At first it was exciting and flattering, but after a while the continuous praise and admiration lost its novelty. She felt bad about it, since all these people had come out specifically to meet her, but her lips hurt from smiling for them. Madison had signed her name so many times today that the motion was practically automatic.

"Enjoying the love of your devoted fans?" Jayden asked. He held out a copy of her book.

Madison blinked. "You want me to sign it?"

"Of course." he smirked. "It's worth more that way." She rolled her eyes, but signed her name anyway along with a particularly bitchy comment that made him laugh. "You look burnt-out. Let me at least get you some coffee."

"That's your solution for everything."

"It's not a solution." Jayden replied, suddenly quite serious. "But it's good enough for now."

Madison eventually relented and he went off to find caffeine for her. The line kept moving with no end in sight. She let herself zone out a bit. It didn't take much focus to write her name as well as whatever else people told her to. After that you just had to thank the person and repeat.

"We need more journalists like you, Ms. Paige."

"Thank you."

"You're an inspiration, Ms. Paige."

"Thank you."

"Well, I guess you finally got your story."

The words died on her tongue as she looked up. He stood there stoically, his hood covering his head so he wouldn't be recognized. If it weren't for his voice, she might not have known who he was either. The last time she'd seen him, he had been broken, injured, and so horribly angry. Plus, he'd had a beard.

But it _was_ him. Madison had to take a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. When at last she could speak, her voice trembled.

"Ethan..."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** This chapter is a bit of an interlude. It is not the final chapter, so do not worry about that. I spoke to soon when I said there was only one or two more chapters; there will probably be at least three more, including this one.

)O(

Sam watched idly as the line kept moving but never got any shorter. It seemed everyone was jumping at the chance to meet Madison Paige. Not that he could blame them; she had put an end to the most wanted killer in the country.

And there was Jayden, her...friend? Boyfriend? What were they? Did they even know? It didn't seem to matter to them. They were taking it one day at a time. Maybe they had the right idea, after all. A divorce was a long and arduous affair. It was better if they could just go their separate ways should things not work out, minus all the paperwork. Jayden really wasn't such a bad guy. At least he seemed to genuinely care about Madison, maybe even love her. The couple would be all right.

"Can I help you, sir?" He turned and saw a woman with curly red hair and a prominent nose. She appeared to be in her late thirties and obviously worked at the bookstore.

"No, but thanks." he replied. "I'm just here for a friend."

"Oh?" He gestured toward Madison. "Oh. You know her?"

"Yeah. I'm Sam."

"Ellis," the woman smiled, extending a slender hand. "Hey, my break starts in a few minutes, do you want to grab a cup of tea?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. _Tea?_

At first he thought she just wanted to talk to him because he knew Madison, but as it turned out, she wanted to know about him. He told Ellis about his job at the American Tribune, and she was fascinated. She was also a very attentive listener.

Then Ellis told him about working at the bookstore, that it was dull at times but she stayed because she needed the money. And besides, she loved books. She also spoke briefly about her painting hobby on the side. It wasn't enough to make ends meet, but it helped a little when the economy went downhill.

They stumbled through small talk with remarkably few awkward pauses. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd simply talked with someone like this, except maybe Madison. In fact, they were so wrapped up in one another's company that he didn't even notice when Madison abruptly stood up and left.

There was something almost magnetic about Ellis. He was drawn to her personality. She made him feel relaxed and excited at the same time. It had never been this way with Kathy. Ellis smiled a lot; he liked that.

In no time, they had to part ways.

"My shift's over." Ellis said. "But I'd like to see you again."

"We could go to dinner." he suggested

"I could cook for us." she added. "What do you like to eat?"

Sam shrugged. "I have nothing against trying new things."

"I'll surprise you." She produced a pen from somewhere on her person and frantically searched for a piece of paper. Her gray eyes then settled on his autographed copy of Heavy Rain. "Uh...may I?"

He nodded. Below Madison's signature, Ellis jotted down her name and phone number in large, looping handwriting. She really did have lovely hands.

"I'll call you."

"Good," Ellis bit her lip. "I need to go food shopping."

Then she was gone, at least for now, and Sam realized how odd the entire exchange had been. He barely knew this woman, yet he'd agreed to go to her apartment and eat food and look at artwork. The divorce had only been official for a few weeks. Kathy had been gone for even less than that. Sam's now ex-wife simply took off to God only knew where with a piece of his heart, yet in a way he lost her long before that.

Where was Kathy now? He couldn't help but wonder.

Sam didn't feel whole anymore. However, meeting Ellis made him think that maybe he could someday.


	22. Chapter 22

"A fucking book deal, Madison?" Ethan asked coldly.

"I..."

"No; don't talk, just listen." There was nothing she could say anyway. She knew how this must look. "I can't believe you would do this, even after you said that all you wanted was to help find Shaun."

"Speaking of Shaun, where is he?"

"He's with Grace." Ethan replied. "Don't change the subject."

"I did want to save your son. That was true." Madison said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but by then I wasn't in it for the story anymore. I saw what you were going through and I wanted to be there for you."

"But you _weren't_ there." he snapped.

"Only because you told me to go!" Something inside her snapped, too. "And don't even talk to me about not being there when _you_ weren't either. You weren't there when Paco Mendez pulled out a gun and told me to take my clothes off, or when Adrian Baker tied me up in his basement and nearly killed me with a fucking power drill!" Madison forced herself to breathe deeply. "You weren't there when Scott Shelby's apartment exploded with me inside."

Ethan was dumbstruck. "I didn't know..."

"Of course you didn't." she said. "How could you have known? I shouldn't expect you to. My point is: I went through all that to save Shaun, _not_ to get a book deal."

"I still don't appreciate you writing about me."

"For God's sake, Ethan, you think my book is about you?" Madison huffed. "I hardly mentioned your name at all, to respect your privacy. It's about those things you weren't there for. It's _my_ story. If you'd read it, you would know that."

He sighed, looking at the floor. "I'm so sick of being angry, Madison. It feels like everything fell apart and I can't fix it...I should be happy, but I'm not."

"Were you happy before?" she asked softly.

"I've missed you, you know." he said. "I miss the way things were between us. You're good at fixing things. I would be dead if it weren't for you, and Shaun..." Ethan looked at her. "I forgive you, and I'd like to start over, now that there's nothing standing in our way."

Once again, she didn't know how to respond. The fact that Ethan still felt betrayed had haunted Madison. But he hadn't been there, and Jayden had. Truth be told, she could easily see herself with him in another time, but things were different now. She was happy here. It was enough to know that he didn't hate her guts for lying to him about being a journalist.

"I'm sorry." she told him. "There is...someone else."

"Right..." Ethan averted his eyes. "I get it. I don't know why I came here. My life's been so fucked up lately. It doesn't get any easier. I'm sorry."

"Ethan, wait," Madison called before he could disappear into the crowd. She grabbed his hand. "This doesn't have to be goodbye, right?"

He shook his head. "I think it does."

And just like that, she traded one regret for another. Was breaking even supposed to hurt so much?

She hoped he didn't regret ever meeting her. But more than that, she hoped he found happiness eventually, maybe in a place where it never rained. Yeah, that was what they all needed. Ethan left her standing there in the middle of the bookstore with a line of people waiting for her to autograph their books growing increasingly impatient. It wasn't the kind of closure Madison had been hoping for. She didn't want Ethan Mars to leave her, but at least he could stop haunting her already horrific dreams.

"Goodbye..."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Well folks, that's it. Thank you so much for your patience with my erratic updates. And please review! Was it somewhat decent considering I've never actually had the opportunity to play Heavy Rain before?

)O(

He needed a fucking job. Of course, what were the career prospects of a Boston native in his late thirties with a degree in criminal psychology who resigned from the FBI because his brain nearly exploded? Jayden wasn't sure he wanted to work in law enforcement anymore, but it was the only thing he'd ever done that actually felt worth something.

"I'll call you when I get to New York," Madison said. "If you need anything, Sam and Ellis are always available."

"I'll be fine."

"You've said that before."

"I know," he looked down. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Yeah...I'll miss you, too." Madison picked up her bags—God knows she wouldn't let Jayden help her with them—and headed toward the gate.

"Hang on, I have something for you." She gave him an odd look but slowly set the suitcases back on the ground and lowered herself into a chair while Jayden got down on one knee and dug in his pocket for the ring.

"Oh my god..." Her mouth fell open as what was happening dawned on her. It seemed surprise took away all the strength in her jaw. "This is so cheesy!"

"I know."

"I mean, right here, in the middle of the airport? Did you get this from a chick flick? A romance novel? Seriously, Norman!"

"Would you rather I not do it at all?" They were drawing quite a crowd by this point.

"No, no, please proceed. I'll shut up."

"Thank you," Jayden smiled. "Madison Paige, will you marry me?"

"Yes, you idiot, of course!" He stood up and Madison embraced him. "Ugh, this is so unfair! Now I have to get on a plane and be all professional when all I can think about is you!" She waved her newly ringed hand around excitedly, then ran down the jet-way, kicking off her shoes and yelling, "I just got engaged!"

Jayden watched her go. He hadn't been this happy in a long time. They were both desperate to save the other because they could not save themselves. Psychologists called it a guardian angel complex. But it worked for them, somehow. Two fundamentally fucked up people trying to find some meaning in filling each other's voids.

)O(

Ethan Mars stared at the package he'd received in the mail today. The last time anyone sent him a package, it was from the Origami Killer. But it turned out to be a book. Madison's book, to be exact. He opened it to the title page where she had written a message to him:

_Ethan, I didn't want to leave things like that between us. Maybe someday you can see my side of the story. I hope so._

Sincerely,

Madison

Of course Ethan forgave her. She was only doing her job, really. He had wanted to apologize for accusing her the moment she was gone, but it was too late. Madison had been the only person who believed in him. Hell, even Ethan himself thought he was the killer, but she wouldn't be convinced. The dedication page was next. Above the note of thanks for her friend, Sam, his name was also mentioned here:

_This book is dedicated to victims of the Origami Killer and their parents, as well as Ethan Mars. His determination to save his son is nothing less than inspiring. Never have I witnessed a love like that before. The trials he went through were unimaginable. He's the real hero, not me._

"Hey, Dad," Shaun the kitchen and saw Madison's book open on the table. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing, son, it's just..." Should he tell him? Both of them generally tried to avoid the subject even though it had brought them closer than ever. "It's just a book written by Madison Paige."

"Oh, I know her," Shaun picked up the book and turned it over. On the back cover was a small picture of Madison, looking exhausted and pretending to smile. Ethan hoped she really was happy. "That's the lady that visited me at the hospital. She saved me, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Ethan answered. "She saved me, too."

"Oh." His son was quiet for a while, then asked, "Can you read it to me, Dad?"

"I don't know...Maybe after I read it first."

"Please?" Shaun did have a right to understand what had happened. Knowing the details couldn't be worse than actually experiencing them. They all needed a way to move on. For Ethan and his son it meant physically moving to a new city, and for Madison and Jayden it just meant trying to cope emotionally.

Ethan turned the page and began to read:

_Author's Note: Journalists tend to pride ourselves on objectivity. But I cannot be objective here. This book is not intended to report solely the facts; it's an analysis of my own experience investigating the case of the Origami Killer. _

_All right, that's not entirely accurate._ _It's true that I was just in it for the story at first, but that all changed when I met Ethan Mars and saw the pain he was going through. This book is about my small part in the mission to save a little boy's life._

_We all had our own reasons for it, but I think we sought something similar. One could argue that it was just the right thing to do, but people are rarely that selfless. I think in the end I, at least, was after a sense of purpose. When it wasn't about the story anymore, that's what remained. What can I say? I guess I'm selfish, which is why Ethan inspires me._

_Maybe I just like being the guardian angel._


End file.
